TAKS Testing, Ninth Graders & Lions

Somehow I’ve got to get my FunnyBack. If you find it, let me know.

I lost it sometime after my Austin trip, but definitely before the great March blizzard of 2008 that forced (much to the delight of everyone involved) a two-hour delay of school on Friday–and all for a picturesque dusting of snow. Ah, just another reason to love Texas.

I guess I probably lost it–my FunnyBack that is, not my mind nor the snow–somewhere in the vicinity of administering the state mandated ELA TAKS test. (Don’t you just hate it when your conversation starts to sound rather alphabet-soupish?)

OK, so let’s get back to the administration of the test.

I had ninth graders.

They finished way before the 10th graders.

And they finished way, way, way–did I say way?– before the 11th graders.

Our lucky 12th graders and their homeroom teachers got to spend the day noshing and reminiscing at the senior breakfast.

Did I mention I had ninth graders?

They finished way before 10th graders.

And they finished way, way, way, way before those 11th graders.

Ninth graders.

I felt much like Ethan Hunt in Mission Impossible when he receives his assignment…

“Your mission, should you decide to accept it…”

Except I don’t recall this mission being optional.

And, I’m pretty sure Mr. Super Spy Ethan Hunt, once he discovered the mission was to keep a room full of beady-eyed ninth graders quiet for no less than three hours after they finished their test, would have said, “No siree” and high-tailed it out of there. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure he never would have survived for M:I2 or M:I3.

In Mission Impossible, the powers-that-be say they will “disavow any knowledge,” and of course, all evidence self-destructs in seconds.

Did I mention I had ninth graders?

And I had to keep them quiet for no less than three hours?

Next time just throw me to the lions and let’s call it a day.