Not a Newbie

The Thursday before spring break. Tenth grade English. Third period. 

The assignment: they were working on "independent projects". After some observation, my guess is those projects had to do with the book they were reading, Night by Elie Wiesel. 

I did my usual intro which I managed to finish just before the daily morning announcements. When the teacher leaves a vague lesson plan, that's because the kiddos have been working on this and should know what to do. So, I expected them to get to work. I opened the seating chart in the attendance software, and started to take roll... 

A boy walked in late. He sat in the corner. I went to mark him tardy, but he did not look anything like the picture of the boy in the seat. As I looked around and compared the live students to the seating chart photos, I noticed that the two bore no resemblance to each other. Um... 

"Why are you not in your assigned seats?" I asked the class at large. 

And suddenly, a third of the class remembered, "I don't sit here," and a minute of flurry ended with a live class that actually looked like the seating chart. 

What? Do they think I'm new? 

While some teachers' seating charts are out of date or they don't really enforce them, I knew Mr. C's chart was accurate (he said so) and that he did enforce it. 

I noted the attempt in the note, and I moved on. 

It was funny how the class was very laid-back and talkative right until I insisted on assigned seats. Then things got very, very quiet. Hopefully they got some work done, but sophomores. Some are still not quite focused on getting it done. 

Have you ever read Night? Did you sit next to your friends in school? Did you get your work done?

Today's A to Z Challenge post brought to you by the letter...

Out-of-Date Seating Chart

Tuesday. Fourth period integrated math two (read: geometry/sophomore math). 

I was in for Ms. L all week, and I was expecting to find Mr. J. Instead, I found Mr. H. Oh, a two sub day... 

Mr. H has been a sub about as long as I have. (We even went to college together, although we didn't know each other then. Big school.) So, we greeted each other, and I found Ms. L's desk and sat down. 

As Mr. H was covering the general ed teacher, he went about taking roll. Mr. J had left his seating chart, and Mr. H was going about verifying who was there and who wasn't. Only, the kiddos weren't precisely in their assigned seats. 

When I covered for Mr. J when he was out on paternity leave two years ago, I learned that his seating chart was more of a suggestion. The kiddos could sit where they liked as long as they were on task, and some of them drifted to other parts of the room. Mr. J tried to keep his seating chart up-to-date, but it wasn't a priority. (This is true for many teachers.) 

Mr. H asked the kiddos who were out of their "assigned" seats to return to them. The kiddos were not pleased. 

One kiddo loudly complained to me. Others in the class came to his defense. I asked him to sit there just for the day. 

"You think I'm lying about my seat," he complained. 

I assured him that I did not. I knew how things worked in that class. But, I also knew that undermining the other sub in the room never helped things, and it was just for one day. 

Reluctantly, the kiddo remained in the seat, but I could see him stewing. 

The next day I ran into Mr. J. He apologized for also being out. (These things happen. I wasn't concerned.) I told him about the seating issue. 

And... Mr. J had warned the kiddos early on that if they drifted, they might be asked to return to their old seats by any subs who covered the class. It was the risk they took. 

Kiddos can be creatures of habit. They don't like being moved. 

(I did tell Mr. H about the seating chart's inaccuracies between classes so he wouldn't run into that issue again the next class. Or he would know if he chose to enforce the seating chart. 

Kiddos will lie about their assigned seats, and they'll sit someplace they shouldn't--like next to someone who will distract them. Or, they'll sit someplace where they can pester someone they shouldn't. So we subs generally make them sit where the seating chart says, because it will save us from other issues later on. It's one of those things that sometimes need to be enforced and sometimes don't.)

A Fit of Pique

Monday. Third period.

It was my prep period. And while I had believed that the new teacher was due to start, I had just learned that no, she wasn't getting clearance probably this week. I looked at the room, the little tables of four that I had created for seating as it was an art class, and I couldn't face seventh period in that configuration anymore. 

Seventh period was my large class. 35 students. And it was my least mature group. Too many of them had chosen this as play time, and I was sick of fighting them. 

So, I decided to rearrange the seating. Not that I had time to rearrange the desks and create a new seating chart (because there was no way I was letting them pick their own seats). But it had to be done. For my sanity. 

Changing routines for middle schoolers is not a great idea. And yet, that's what I did. Rather than collecting everything from them, I set up a turn in box. Rather than collecting everything daily, I created a packet thing. And rather than keeping them in tables, I put them in rows. 

I needed to make things easier on me. 

Did it? Well, it settled the other classes a bit. The classes that weren't really that big an issue. As for seventh period, that's still a work in progress. 

The Boys

Sophomore math. Second period. Monday.

Second period is the class. Every teacher has one. The difficult group. 

This class is made difficult by four boys. They all sit over in one corner of the room, and they spend the period goofing off. Although, they held it together for their test. But during working time...

The previous class period (Wednesday, the day we found out), had been the test. So, on Monday they were starting a new unit on geometry. They had a "what do you remember?" worksheet. And while most of the class was busy trying to remember things (or looking them up on their phones--this was permitted), the boys were playing around. 

They were eating in class even after being asked specifically not to. (Ximenez: "But it's fruit.") They were discussing some new album that some rapper had released. They were talking about gambling. (Jasper to Ximenez: "You keep all but $10 of your winnings, and then bet the $10. You don't bet all of your winnings...") 

If I had been alone and writing this incident in my note to the teacher, I would have said the boys "were having way too much fun". It's not that they shouldn't have fun, but they were clearly not on task. 

But that rap album was too hard to resist. One boy had to play it out. (They have headphones/earbuds. They can listen to music on their own and not blast it for the whole class to hear.) 

Mr. Y warned them to turn it off. And they did, for a time.

But then they played it out again. And again. And again. 

I warned them that it was time to take their phones if they couldn't be trusted to not play music in class. (Me: "I don't want to hear anything coming from your phones.")

But, of course...

This time, Mr. Y went over there and took the phones from two of the boys. Who both claimed that they were not the ones playing the music. 

And yet, the music stopped after that. 

I doubt the boys got any of the work completed. The period finished, and everyone left. Everyone, except the two boys whose phones Mr. Y still had. 

Mr. Y looked at them. I pointed out he still had their phones. 

The boys: "We'll tell you who was playing the music..."

No one knew when class was in session, but after... Yeah. Getting their phones back was a great motivator. 

Not that Mr. Y was going to keep their phones. (He could turn them in to the main office, but considering the situation, it was way more trouble than it was worth. This is a minor cell phone infraction, really.) 

Once the boys left (with their phones), Mr. Y expressed his frustration with the class. Yup, I understood. So, because the boys had been getting on his last nerve, Mr. Y decided it was time to break the group up. New seats for them all.

They did not like this. It helped settle them enough so Mr. Y could teach the class the next period. But after, when they were doing independent work, the boys continued their conversation... across the room. Sigh. 

Seat Shuffle

(If you haven't seen my Monday post, you probably should. It's here.)

Wednesday. Eighth grade U.S. history, fourth period. 

I generally wait to deal with attendance until after I've gotten the kiddos started on the day's assignment(s). So, I had done my introduction, passed out their work, and explained what they needed to accomplish. (They had vocabulary, questions, and a game on the Bill of Rights.) 

They had been inattentive, but not loud, so I felt I had been able to get my message across. I told them to get started on the work.

Then, with the seating chart in my hand, I visibly started working on verifying who was absent. 

The first corner seat was empty. I called the name. The student was on the other side of the room. 

As he hurriedly reclaimed his assigned seat, a handful of other students suddenly remembered where their actual assigned seats were. There was a flurry of movement as kiddos shifted to where they were supposed to be. 

I mean, what am I, new? Did they really think I wasn't going to check? 

I waited until they once again settled, and then I began working on attendance again. Suddenly, the room was a whole lot more settled than it had been. 

I haven't had a group try the whole seat swap thing in a while. I suppose I was due for the challenge. Sigh.

A Bad Choice

Wednesday was way calmer on my nerves than Tuesday had been. I had had a day to get acclimated to the class I'd be covering for the next three weeks. And I got the extra desks I'd need. (See yesterday's post.)

The school is on a block schedule, so on Wednesday I had a whole new group of classes. All were semester courses, so the kiddos would be new to the room. I got to assign seats.

I like to randomize seat selection when assigning seats. That way I'm not picking on any student (or appearing to). 

I learned in teacher school to not let the kiddos pick their own seats. When you do that, the kiddos will group in ways that make classroom control harder. Difficult students will find each other and feed off each other to make things more difficult. The good kiddos will sit in the front. And friends will sit next to friends, which makes them less likely to pay attention to the teacher when instruction is being given. 

So, to randomize, I had index cards with numbers on them that I shuffled. As the students gave me their names at the door, I'd pick the next card, give them their number, and write that number on my roster. (The desks were numbered.)

Fourth period. Ninth grade geography. 

I had assigned seats. Gotten the kiddos logged into Google Classroom. And then I had an intro video about South America for them to watch while they took notes. 

As they watched the video, I translated their roster into an actual seating chart. 

I compared my seating chart to where the kiddos were sitting. There was a discrepancy. I had a boy sitting in an unassigned seat while I had a seat with a name attached that was empty. 

Carson was sitting in the last seat of a row where I had assigned him a seat at the front. Ah ha. I found him scrolling on his phone.

I went over to discuss. He swore I had not given him the number 6, that I had given him seat 9. It's kinda hard to mistake a 9 for a 6 in speech and in my writing (on a clipboard, so I didn't flip it over). He was lying. 

But, I decided to let it be. 

Why? Because I wasn't in the mood for an argument. Not on the first day.

And, the teacher's station was at the back of the room. Rather than the front.

I have way better access to him if he's in the back. 

It'll be fun to hover over his shoulder. Frequently. 

He should have taken the seat I actually assigned. 

Absolutely Not

Archie and Alvin. The boys I talked about last week. So, this was fifth period.

I had swapped Alvin and another boy, but that other boy was absent (and has gone on independent study, so he won't be back for a while), so at the beginning of class a day after I had made the switch...

"Can I move back to that seat? We'll be good..."

Alvin was practically sitting in Archie's lap. The two would not stop talking. Even after I asked them to. Repeatedly. 

"We promise. We won't talk."

Um, right.

I would have made the joke that the two of them act like they're in love, but I wasn't going to humiliate them in front of their peers. And it might be the truth.

Because, seriously, the way they were together... Yeah, I can see a spark. They work as a couple.

But, seventh graders. Things are more open nowadays, and there's less of a stigma, but seventh graders. 

Anyway, I did say no. Pretty emphatically. I wasn't even tempted. I didn't feel even a little badly about it. 

I'm doing them a favor, really. 

Because, seriously, they could not focus on the lesson and sit next to each other. I'm protecting their science grade.

Broke Fifth Period?

Wednesday, fifth period. 

As the schedule changes seemed to be settling down, I figured it was a good time to make some seating changes. Mostly in period three, because period three has become that class. 

But in period five, I had one girl seated by herself in a corner in the back that is not turning in work. She gives me definite distracted vibes, like she has ADHD. I wanted her closer so I can keep better tabs on her. And while I was doing that, I might as well move some in the back closer, as the class was pretty small, and I didn't need kiddos way back away.

Once I moved several students, a couple others wanted to be closer, too. So I allowed that. Then I got on with the lesson of the day.

And I found that I had broken fifth period.

Fifth period was the good group. They were my reward for getting through third period.

The first day I had them, they came in quiet. And then wouldn't talk. After lunch. (Middle schoolers are notorious for being wound up after lunch. After lunch classes tend to be crazy.) 

Over the last couple weeks, I've discovered that they're the bright group. I ask a question, I get many volunteers to answer. And I can teach them. They're attentive. They're engaged. They're lovely. 

But after the seating changes... Suddenly, I had to stop to regain attention. Oh no.

But, mostly it was two boys. They hadn't been sitting next to one another before, and they just couldn't seem to get enough of one another. 

Would separating them work? 

On Friday, I tried just that. And, things calmed down considerably. 

Phew. I thought I had broken the class. 

(Both boys were good boys. Attentive. Volunteered.)

We'll see if that was the only issue. Seventh graders, so these things don't necessarily stay static. Hopefully they'll continue to be my good group. I need that.

Collapsing

It's the first full week of school, and the schedule changes have started...

I know better than to create seating charts in ink or to make a pretty class roster sheet as there will be students moving in and out for a bit. But this is ridiculous. 

On Wednesday, the teacher next door, Ms. W, told me that one of the seventh grade math teachers took a different position. Instead of hiring another teacher, the administration began dismantling those classes, distributing the students to other teachers. I didn't get specifics, only that one teacher took over one of the periods, which meant the students she had that period had to go elsewhere...

It's a logistical nightmare. And not my job.

What is my job, though, is to process the students whose schedules got impacted by all of this. 

First period. I noticed that one student wasn't on my attendance any longer. I figured he hadn't been notified of his schedule change yet. Then I got an email saying that any students that were no longer enrolled in our classes should be sent to the office. So, I gently told the boy he would have to go. 

Not five minutes later a student aide came in to give me the boy's new schedule. Deep sigh.

(The boy was switched into my fifth period class.)

And so, all day I had new students. And students pulled out of class as they were sent elsewhere. 

Fifth period. We were a bit into it when I got a call. Another teacher asked me to send her one of my now former students as she was to be in English then instead of science. How the teacher knew where the student was is a mystery to me, as I would have sent the boy in first period to his proper class if I had known how to figure it out. 

So, I gently explained to the girl that her schedule was also different. 

And remember, these seventh graders are brand new to this school. So, add this confusion on top of it all...

At least I got my seating charts done before all this started. (With post-it notes for each student, so it's easy to move them around.) If I can just keep on top of the changes daily, I should be able to keep things organized. But what a nightmare.

Victor/Victoria

Note: the title of this post references a movie. If you have not seen it, it's a good movie. I recommend it. 

Friday. The second day of school.

In teacher training, I learned that it is not a good idea to let students choose their seats. But, as someone whose last name starts with an A, I really dislike seating students alphabetically. I prefer a randomization method. 

Ms. S had the desks numbered. She also had index cards with the numbers on them. So, I shuffled the cards, and as the students entered the room, I drew a card and assigned them that seat. It was lovely.

A few students did move as they needed to be close to the front. This was to be expected. I'm sure there'll be other moves as the semester wears on. 

But, mostly they sat in the random seats I had randomly generated. 

One of the other starting class things I did was to have them make pull cards. (These are cards with their names on them that I can shuffle to call on them randomly.) 

As I went around to pick them up, I made sure to pronounce their names to make sure I was saying them right. This is when I noticed that two boys who have the same name sit next to each other. Deep sigh.

So, as I was picking up the cards one period, I looked down and noted the boy was named Victor. Nothing odd there. In the very next seat was Victoria. 

Um...

I think there are a few kinks in the randomization system. Sigh. 

(I kinda want to tell the kiddos about the movie, but I'm not sure it's terribly age appropriate. I mean, it's not bad, but there are a few adult themes that they're probably a bit young for. If you've seen the movie, you'll know what I mean.)

Not a Group Assignment

Monday. Middle school English. (Ms. A had something like four seventh grade classes and two eighth grade classes.)

Ms. A had this sign on her desk:

And I was kind of feeling it with them.

Third period. The first thing the students were to do was to put their backpacks in the back of the room. About a third of them didn't. (There was a huge space for their backpacks. Hooks. Shelves. Clearly this was a daily expectation. That they didn't tells me they were on sub behavior.) 

Then I went to take roll, and a couple girls were not in their assigned seats. 

Delani and Nellie had chosen seats next to each other. When it was clear what I was doing, Nellie quietly removed herself back to her assigned seat. Delani on the other hand was not budging even though I asked her repeatedly to move. She was going to "in just a minute". Sigh.

It was a "work day", meaning they had the period to make up any work they needed to complete. The end of the quarter was on Friday, so this was the last chance they'd have to pull up their grades before report cards went home.

Most of them were "completely caught up". As I had no way to check, I trusted them. I let them play games on their computers. 

Delani came up to me. (This was after she finally was back in her assigned seat.) She said she had a history assignment to complete. That was fine with me.

But, Nellie had the same history teacher as her, and Delani "had to" work with Nellie on the assignment. (She did not say they had the same class. She said they had the same teacher.)

Um, what? 

Delani didn't say it was a group assignment. She didn't say she needed help (which I was willing to provide). It didn't even sound like anything more complex than a regular homework assignment.

I told Delani she could work on the assignment on her own.

"What the f***?" she said.

Seriously, she said that.

Having prevented the seat change (which is what she wanted), the class remained relatively calm. Delani? Did no work. 

"I thought you had a history assignment," I said.

The concept of her doing it on her own escaped her. She wouldn't even consider it.

I... I just don't understand. Why couldn't she do it on her own? 

I imagine they would have just copied each other. Or talked about something non-school related. So, really, I was doing them a favor. Of course, they didn't see it that way.

I wrote a whole paragraph about Delani in my note to the teacher. I wonder if she's like this all the time. (One of these days, I'm sure I'll find out.)

Adjustments

Thursday. Fifth period. The topic for the day was "how to write a teacher an email". 

I was a bit worried that the lesson would go short. I had a slide show (provided by Ms. B who is next door to my room and teaches the same subject--she's been such a huge help with this long-term gig) that I had slightly modified. I had thoughts on how to stretch things to fit the hour and a half I had with the class.

It turned out that none of that was needed.

The students were to be taking notes. For the most part, they were. But every time I'd pause (to let them write things down), they'd talk to their neighbors, so I had to stop and try to get their attention again. 

Keeping a class of 14-year-olds focused is hard. Especially when they're more interested in conversing with their friends.

Fifth period is one of the co-taught classes. These are classes that have a large number of special ed kiddos, so a second teacher is there to help them. 

After the umpteenth time I tried to get the class's attention, Ms. Y lost it. 

Ms. Y gave the class an angry talking-to. She informed them that what they were doing was not acceptable, and it was time for them to stop acting like middle schoolers and pay attention.

Cowed, they calmed enough so I could finish the lecture. Barely. We finished maybe a minute or two before the class period was over.

This is why assigned seats are a thing. As I inherited the class from another sub, I didn't feel the need to change the seats. And Mr. P had let them pick their own seats at the beginning of school. But they had now lost the privilege. 

Ms. Y and I discussed, and we came up with who definitely needed to be separated from whom. And creating a new seating chart got added to my already over full plate.

But, if it calms the class down so they can actually learn something, totally worth it.

By the time you read this, I should know if the new seats helped or not.

Not His Seat

On Tuesday for my extra period assignment, I was sent to an English class that I had covered before. But luckily it wasn't for the period with fake Evan.

They had just finished reading Lord of the Flies, and their assignment was to make a slideshow summarizing each of the chapters. 

But before I could settle in to the period, I had to take roll.

Because eighth graders will try the seat swap, I call out the names of students I am marking absent.

"Jasper."

He was on the other side of the room. 

When I questioned him on why he was not in his assigned seat, he explained that the teacher had moved him because he talked too much in the other seat. 

This did not pass the smell test:

1. He was sitting in the middle of a group of African-American students. He's also Black. 
2. His assigned seat was in the middle of not Black students. 
3. He was clearly "hanging out" with the group he was sitting with.
4. The girl whose name was on that seat was sitting nearby (rather than having traded seats with him). 

I insisted that Jasper move back to the other seat. After some back and forth (and the threat of a referral), Jasper finally relented. And the girl whose seat he had taken got her seat back (much to her relief). 

Did he do his work? No. Did he talk to that group of students on the other side of the room? Of course.

I'll take the victories where I can.

Because Jasper gave me that much trouble about sitting in his assigned seat, I made sure he had a starring role in my note to his teacher. And because I email my notes to the teachers nowadays, the teacher replied.

She absolutely had not moved him. And she was not pleased with his lie. 

I wonder how upset with me Jasper will be the next time he sees me. I hope he learned his lesson and will sit where he's supposed to.

Catching Up

Eighth grade English. Fifth period. And I was confused. 

Class had barely started when a student asked me for a restroom pass. I checked the seating chart to get a name. "Evan?" I asked. He confirmed.

But, just before the bell had rung, another student had asked for a different hall pass. He needed to retrieve belongings from the PE locker room. Before I let him go, I asked his name so I wouldn't mark him absent when I went to take roll. He said his name was Evan. 

There were not two Evans on the roster. 

Getting roll taken takes a couple minutes. I was squaring away who had asked for hall passes (a girl had asked to go to the health office) and making sure I noted who was out of the room (the office had called for another boy) while checking for empty seats against the seating chart. I hadn't quite gotten my feet under me. 

Then the Evan who went to the locker room returned and sat in Evan's seat.

And now I knew what the problem was. Restroom Evan was not Evan. He was only pretending to be Evan.

Ah yes. A name swap. This I'm familiar with. 

Restroom Evan returned to greetings of, "Hello, Jose." 

Jose's seat was occupied. Jose attempted to sit in Evan's seat, not noticing that Evan was sitting there, all the while saying, "My name is Evan." 

Uh huh. Dude, the jig's up. 

Caught, Jose went back to his seat. The boy in that seat protested that Jose had told him to sit there and pretend to be him. (Considering his behavior up to this point, I'm more likely to believe that he was a willing participant.) 

A couple minutes later, and the boys were all back where they were supposed to be. A couple minutes after that, and the class settled. 

And then I had some time to write this all out for their teacher. I can't be the only one to "enjoy" their antics.

Damaged

Sometimes two students do not get along.

And sometimes, those two students are seated right next to each other.

I didn't notice Odessa and Xerxes the first week. Although, Odessa did stand out on that awful Friday in sixth period when, bored, Odessa decided to organize the colored pencils and markers that Mrs. B leaves out for them to use for projects and such. 

(She did an great job. I took a photo and texted it to Mrs. B. She loved what Odessa had done.) 

I'm not sure what set it off. But I was dealing with other issues when I heard their commotion. 

Odessa blamed Xerxes. Xerxes blamed Odessa. 

The headphones should be in one piece, not two. 

They had been throwing the headphones back and forth. I'm not sure why. We have a class set, so they could go and get another set. 

Who's to blame? In my book: both of them. 

(I took the headphones back to the library. I gave the library clerk both their names. We're not sure how it's going to work, but both of them will have a fine assessed.) 

But now the both of them are in a battle. Every little thing the other does is cause for anger and recriminations. 

What to do? Time to amend the seating chart. Those two need to be separated.

Of course, neither would budge. 

"No, she can move."

"No, he should move." 

If I had two open empty seats, I would have moved both of them. But, alas, I only had one.

And neither of them were going to take it. (And the boy next to that seat informed me the seat needed to remain empty. That's a battle for another time.) 

In the end, Austin (who's also an issue, but that's a whole other blog post) volunteered to switch with Xerxes. And for peace, I allowed it.

I think I'm going to regret letting Austin have that seat, but I'll worry about that next week.

(If you recall Austin from the chemistry class, no, this is not the same boy. But yes, he does have the same name. And Austin from the chemistry class is in my fourth period. So, I'm basically all about yelling at Austins for this class.) 

Battle of the Seating Chart

After my preview the prior week, I was not looking forward to beginning the four weeks in the Success Seminar class. And things went about as I expected them to go. 

The first order of business: keep the students in their assigned seats. 

The classes are a bit wild. Mrs. B, in an effort to mellow them out a bit, reassigned the seats in all the classes before she left. She left me with the updated seating chart. 

My first day in class was an even day. (We're on block schedule. Even days are periods 2, 4, 6, and 8. They have a name based on the school colors, but I can never keep that straight, so it's odd and even days for me.) That meant I got to see period four again right away. 

And... every class battled me on the seating chart. 

In period four I had one boy who just had to sit next to another boy who "helped" him with his English assignments. Okay, fine. But it wasn't work on other classwork day. 

In period six, I had two boys who swapped names/seats. They got angry at the other students when they got called out for it, but I was the one who went to each table and verified that each student in each seat was the student noted on the seating chart. 

But that was all child's play.

Period eight... They were going to sit with their friends, and there was not a thing I could do about it. 

Soleil was on her phone, having a full on conversation, when class started. And when I wouldn't let her friend sit with her, she could not understand why. Just the idea that perhaps I wanted them to pay attention in class was completely foreign to her. 

So, I lost that fight.

Their assignment was a "recap" (read: test) over the unit they'd just finished. But it was a group assignment. The whole table could work together on it.

Period eight worked with their friends rather than their table. Which was not the assignment. 

Mrs. B had to grade this as I hadn't been there for the unit. (The recap was online.) And she saw right away that the groups weren't the groups she had assigned. She left a note in their Google Classroom the next class day stating how disappointed she was that they hadn't followed instructions. 

The next class day, the students sat in their assigned seats, albeit reluctantly. 

So, win? Nah. More of a détente for the moment. It's going to be a long four weeks.

The Seating Chart

Students are creatures of habit. They like their routines. Once something has been established, like requiring them to wipe down their desks at the end of the period, they just continue to do that thing. They don't like it when we change things up on them.

In the co-taught classes, I am in charge of taking roll. (I'm in charge of roll in the classes where it's just me, too, of course.) After a couple weeks of not remembering any of the names of the in-person students, I decided to take advantage of their tendencies. I decided to make seating charts. 

We have not assigned seats. Now, you'd think that me making a seating chart and then not requiring the kiddos to sit in the same seats would mean that my seating charts are useless. They are not. 

Second period, Tuesday. Four students arrived. All sat down in the front row. I went down the line, and all had sat according to the seating chart. That they were unaware of. 

After a month of in-person learning, they have chosen their seats, and they are sticking to them. 

It's not 100%. In third period, a girl and a boy have done battle over the back far corner seat. It goes to the student who arrives first. (The one day that they started an argument over it, I forbid either to sit there. Since then, they've accepted the first one to get there gets it.) 

Save for a couple other adjustments daily, the kiddos pretty much stay in the same seats. And with my chart, I have started to learn their names. Or, at least, I'm way better at "guessing" who is who. 

Seating charts are how I learn students' names. It's the way my brain works. So, might as well play to my strengths, right?

Fake Amanda

I'm not great at detecting lies, but sometimes the kiddos are obvious. Today's #ThrowbackThursday post is from February 22, 2008, but I remember it well. 

Today I covered a 7th grade world history class.

I needed a silent room. I was not getting it. So, I warned them: "I will take down the names of those who continue to talk." This only works when I cover some teachers. This was one of them.

They fought me on it for a moment. I stared down the few whose names were going to be on my list. Then one of the girls (the talkers were all girls in this group) told me to write down her name. "I'm Amanda," she said.

She offered up her name way too easily. I was suspicious. I checked the seating chart. Sure enough, Amanda sat in that seat. But she did not look like an Amanda. She did not feel like an Amanda. I was sure I was being lied to.

Twenty minutes later (I had gotten my silence, so I didn't need to make my list) two other students were exchanging words. "Amanda, I have it here." The first student was talking to a different girl, not the one who claimed to be Amanda. I knew it!

After a quick perusal of the seating chart, I figured out who the fake Amanda was. Joanna. I was pretty sure. The two girls had probably switched seats.

Then someone called to the fake Amanda, calling her Joanna. I was right.

I don't know why they do this. I don't know what they get out of it. Today? They get honorable mention in my note to their teacher.

Ms. T recently retired. I miss her classes. She did not put up with this sort of nonsense. That girl was in serious trouble afterward.

Fairly Warned

I've been struggling with this post for days. It still might not make much sense...

It was Thursday. I was covering the Mandarin class. No, not that one. Different school. Apparently Mandarin is a thing now. At least for this school district.

That morning, I woke with a sore throat that went into full blown head cold for the holiday weekend. (If you noticed that I wasn't around the blogs, that was why.)

It turned out to be not a bad day. Which is a good thing when one is starting to feel miserable. However, I was warned about sixth period. They were the "interesting" group.

When the teacher told me this (Ms. L was there that morning as she was chaperoning a field trip to a local temple), I took a look at the seating chart (with pictures!), and I did recognize the students she warned me about.

Jake was one. I did get to chide him on pretending to be Steven. When the other students overheard this, I informed them that Jake preferred to be called Steven. And I told Ms. L about this later. I so hope they tease him about it for the rest of the school year--from that day, two weeks. 

Ms. L explained that she had placed one girl, Monica, as a sort of buffer between the boys. If the boys got too bad, I was to let Monica move away.

Class started, and Ryder shooed Monica out of her seat and took it. Monica was a willing participant in this, so much so that when I informed them that I had an accurate seating chart, they did not move.

Okay then. Just another addition to the note.

Towards the end of the period, a few of the students who had gone on the field trip returned. This is pretty standard.

But it freaked the other kiddos out. "Ms. L is back?!?"

Suddenly, Monica and Ryder knew exactly where their seats were, and they were in them.

Ms. L did not return. After the class was dismissed for the day, I did manage to locate Ms. L and let her know how the day went. She found the seat swap interesting.

Alas, poor Monica was in for it. (Although, one of the boys I was warned about did not behave badly, so he got a pleasant surprise the next day.)

The Wrong Savannah

I had the same classes all last week. Seventh grade world history. Advanced.

(Their teacher was the chaperone for the annual Washington, D.C. trip. So, out of town and hopefully having fun, but working, too.)

The "advanced" means they were the good kids. While they were not 100% on task (they had computers--their assignment was online--so some played more games than did work), they were not doing the sorts of things that generally make for good blog posts.

On Thursday, their acceptance letters to be in a leadership class next year were delivered to period four. So, with my trusty seating chart, I passed these letters out to all the kiddos. There were only about ten.

Passing back papers is harder for me as I don't know the kiddos. Generally, I just call out names. They raise their hands. And then we meet half way.

But, as I knew I had the class all week, I had made myself seating charts. It made roll go that much quicker. And it was useful in keeping track of who was who, especially if there were any "special mentions" I needed to make in my note to their teacher.

I passed out all the letters but one. I remembered marking Savannah absent, so I held on to her letter.

Sixth period the teacher was a coach. The season is over, so the kiddos are just hanging out in class. One girl noticed the letter on the desk. She was oohing and ahhing over it. I mentioned that the girl it belonged to was absent.

"She better not have been..."

Turns out the girl was Savannah's sister, and she knew that Savannah had been at school. (They're on the same campus, so they had arrived together.)

She knew what class Savannah was in sixth period, so she went to take it to her. And it was then that I realized what had happened.

There were two Savannahs in period four. I had forgotten this fact while passing out the letters. I remembered marking a Savannah absent, but I didn't check the last name.

Oops. Glad her sister was there to fix my mistake.