161 Carnival of Education

Grab your tickets and hitch a ride the 161 Carnival of Education is over at the Education Wonks. Lots of good stuff to look at. I particularly liked NYC Educator’s submission. Even if you don’t teach, the corporate world has this problem too. I wanted to head on over to our friend in the UK and see what was going on there, but I couldn’t access the video (blocked for my own good I’m sure) from Scenes from the Battleground, so I looked at this other post from him instead–“10 things you never hear in teaching.” I guess I particularly liked: “Remember children, if you fail your GCSEs you are a loser and you will have a rubbish life.” I just think it would be fun to say, “a rubbish life.”

My submission “Campus Visits, More Irrelevancy & Nincompoops” was included, but you don’t have to go there to read it here.

Blame it on Pizza Andy…

News flash…

We knew it was bound to happen soon especially if you have followed this blog closely. With spring break just around the corner, cold northerly winds clocking at a minimum of 30 mph inside my classroom (a recurring problem) and an overall drop in common sense (another recurring problem), it didn’t take much prodding from Pizza Andy for me to stand in the middle of my classroom, arms outstretched in martyr fashion and proclaim…

after exactly 63 days, 11 hours and 16 seconds…

“They truly are all BIG FAT STUPID HEADS.”

And, nincompoops.

So there.

Campus Visits, More Irrelevancy & Nincompoops

Over the weekend, I fired my VP of Humor Control (but I didn’t tell her), but don’t worry about her. I figure it will take her at least a good 11 days before she notices, and by that time, I probably would have rehired her anyway. That’s what happens when one stumbles into the realm of irrelevancy.

I seem to be doing that a lot lately…the stumbling, so I thought perhaps we could stumble together through my Top 5 List of Things That Make Me Irrelevant.

#5… I took my fired VP to Austin for a college day at the University of Texas campus. While there, we visited the drag–Guadalupe Street. While all the shops oozed cuteness and beckoned us shopaholics, I must admit that there probably was not one thing I could squeeze into (so much for the Biggest Loser program), but more importantly, even if I could have, I most definitely should not have.

#4… Recently, I discovered that anything that I might suggest has as much of a chance of eliciting a positive response from those who fit into the demographics of being able to squeeze into that clothing on Guadalupe Street as Ralph Nader does of winning a run at the White House. (In case you were wondering, those demographics pretty much include all the children in all my classes as well as my former VP.)

#3… After 22 years of teaching and surviving (thus far) nine principals, seven superintendents and four school districts (if you count my student teaching a gazillion years ago), I finally have allowed myself to be annoyed by the moronic musings of lilly-livered nincompoops.


#2… The fact that I can readily amuse myself with alliterations and by using the word “nincompoop” just underscores my irrelevantness.

And finally…can anyone anywhere give us a drum roll pah-leese…

The No. 1 Thing That Makes Me Irrelevant… I’ve pretty much given up on playing Classic Rock songs for my Journalism I class while they write their daily journal entries after I put on “Can’t You Hear Me Knockin’” by the Rolling Stones and the kids thought we were going to play Guitar Hero.

Jeez Louise as if I’ve ever played.

160 Carnival of Education, My Birthday & Irrelevancy

The street is a sideshow from the peddler to the corner girl
Life is a carnival--it’s in the book
Life is a carnival--take another look"

–from Life is a Carnival
the Band

The 160 Carnival of Education is out. You can go there to see what’s been posted elsewhere in the EduSphere this week.

But wait a minute a darn tootin’ minute!

… I want you to stay right here and post a Happy Birthday message to yours truly and read my bonus post below. Yep, another b-day is here and it’s today! You can post your messages by clicking on “comments” at the end of this post, or you can just email me off site at mybellringers@gmail.com. And, be nice. No spamming me with anti-wrinkle cream ads or AARP propaganda. ;-)

And, if you haven’t read my most recent post, well, geewillikers, it’s right below--Biggest Loser, Saving the Titantic & Me. I don’t say anything when my submissions to the carnival are rejected, but since it’s my birthday, I can say anything I want to. I found it rather humorous and ironic that my Biggest Loser post was rejected by a Yale student because he said, “Things that didn’t make the grade: completely irrelevant and off-topic submissions!”

Now, neighbors, I’ve been called a lot of things (and usually they rhyme with my last name and start towards the beginning of the alphabet or the end of the alphabet–you figure it out)…

But Irrelevant?

And on my 51st birthday?

And with an exclamation point?!?!

My staffers are going to have some kind of fun with this one… I think I feel a blog coming on…

And an irrelevant one at that.

Biggest Loser, Saving the Titanic & Me

My school started a Biggest Loser program so it shouldn’t be a big surprise that I can so relate to that on so many, many levels. And, it shouldn’t come as a shock either to anyone that I immediately made a beeline to the nurse’s office, promptly signed up and immediately weighed in after, of course, receiving the necessary assurances that no one could hack into the nurse’s computer to retrieve my weight or BMI.

Sadly, I have enough body fat that I’m pretty sure if I had been a passenger on the Titanic I could have singlehandedly kept it afloat–at least long enough for a rescue. And that’s not because I’m fat either. OK, well maybe, but I’ve always been a floater even when I was skinny. OK, so maybe I’ve never been skinny… How about thin? OK, so maybe not thin. How about not-fat? Let’s go with that.

At any rate, this Biggest Loser nomenclature got me thinking. And, we all know what that means. Aiyeyeyeye. I was going to do a list of “You know you’re the Biggest Loser when…” but that just made my head hurt and damaged my self of steam. So instead, I thought I should hop into the confessional and tell you why I earned–hands down, no competition–the Biggest Loser title this week. (And, oh my goodness, note that it was only Tuesday.) I wish I could say earning the title had something to do with shedding pounds, but alas, that would be a lie (and a big, fat one at that).

Let’s just say that once again some moron–that would be me–somehow managed to schedule both newspaper and yearbook deadlines at the same time. Needless to say, I’ve been a little frenzied. OK, make that frenzied times two squared with a few crazies thrown in. Before I left school Monday. I checked the yearbook tray and noted–rather disgustedly–that there were no, nadda, zippo, zilch yearbook pages turned in. I walked out the door about 5:30 p.m. with my angry face on.

Tuesday morning wasn’t much better. A yearbook disaster here, there, everywhere. I couldn’t even muster up the energy to do the hokey-pokey. Instead, I snapped at no fewer than four yearbook staffers even before the tardy bell rang–all while pounding out a you-better-fix-this-problem-or-your-liver-is-coming-out-your-nose-nasty-email to the photo company rep. Once the bell rang, I turned my wrath on my yearbook staffers all sitting dutifully in their uncomfortable desks, and all mustering their best serious faces.

“I can’t believe none of you turned in any of your pages for deadline,” I scolded. “And, I was here until 5:30.”

But before I could really get going, a somewhat timid hand went up over on the right side of the room.

“What is it,” I bellowed.

“Uh, Richie, the deadline isn’t until today,” the staffer said amidst a sea of nods.

“What?” I barked, or maybe I hissed. I kind of like it when I get to hiss.

“Yeah, it’s today,” my always-unruffled editor announced.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s today,” they said in unison. “Today’s Tuesday.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Well, never mind then,” I added, feeling a bit like Gilda Radner’s character Miss Litella in those old Saturday Night Live skits.

Loser.

Big Loser.

Big Fat Loser.

Well, maybe not entirely a big fat loser.

At least I could have saved the Titanic. Now that’s got to count for something.

159 Carnival of Education

Wow… another Carnival of Education and this time it’s over at SharpBrains. (Hey, maybe I need to get me one of those.)

There were quite a few stellar posts. My favorite has to be Joanne Jacobs who writes that the first step toward success is failure, but more importantly she talks about self of steam–make that self-esteem. (And, we all know how I feel about that.) There also was an interesting piece on research by Jeff Henig. Another post from Bill at the Tempered Radical discussed raising awareness about genocide in Darfur and also included some nifty tips about leaving good blog comments. This Carnival also included my submission, “Fuzzies, Recruiting and Hair Bows," but you don’t have to go there to read it here.

And while I’ve got your attention, get your instant fix of Bellringers every time I update by subscribing to the RSS feed or by email. The RSS feed is easy. Check out this fun, quick video that walks you through it. Hails bails, if I can do it, so can you.

Fuzzies, Recruiting and Hair Bows

We might as well clear the air here. I never have nor will I ever be one of those warm fuzzy teachers. It’s not something I’m terribly proud of, but it’s something I’m honest about. It is what it is, and I am what I am, and no, I’m not going to start my recitation of that Sam-I-am-that-Sam-I-am- Green-Eggs-And-Ham-thing (although I could).

At any rate, be thankful that my calling places me squarely at the high school level, not at the elementary school level where such things as warm fuzzies are required as well as perfectly coiffed hair complete with hair bows, an array of matching themed outfits and those really, really cute bulletin boards with laminated stuff and stickers. –All of which I am 100 percent absolutely no good at–particularly the hair thing.

And, no, this post isn’t going to turn into a confessional of my many shortcomings, but rather, a way to introduce you to this thing we call “recruiting.” Yep, we’re smack dab in the midst of recruiting and we’re not talking sports here. Counselors are running around, corralling kids and branding–no wait, make that signing them up for their courses for next year. In the mix, stand all the electives competing for those paltry few hours of openings. (Don’t ya just hate it when all that math, science and English nonsense gets in the way of a good elective? Sigh.)

All this recruiting stuff just reminds me how unfuzzy I really am–except maybe my brain which seems to get a bit more fuzzy as the years advance (and, yes, I am rapidly approaching my 51st birthday). Oh Jeez, I’m off task again. Sorry. Back to recruiting…

To be on the newspaper or yearbook staff, the kids must fill out an application, be interviewed and have their references checked. As you know from reading this blog, student publications definitely are not for the weak of heart or spirit. It takes a special kind, a specific mix. I’m always honest with them about my unfuzziness and I expect for potential staffers to be honest about themselves. I also expect their references to be honest, too.

I thought you might appreciate my teacher reference questionnaire. It’s a 10 item/10 point scale. Of course, my favorite is No. 9. (Now, is that really any surprise?)

Here it goes…

Richie’s Teacher Evaluation Sheet

Directions: The student listed above has applied for either newspaper or yearbook publications staff. We take our publications seriously and only want the best staff members. These staff members must be reliable, responsible and honest. Integrity is extremely important. Of course, we expect for them to talk and write in complete sentences, not to pick their nose in public or otherwise act in a manner that would cast dispersions upon our fine student newspaper or yearbook. With all that in mind, please fill out the rating sheet below. Rankings range from 1 to 10 with 10 being the best possible score.

1. Trustworthy…I could leave a $5 bill on my desk and it would still be there when I returned.

2. Dependable…Would rather walk barefoot over hot coals than miss a deadline.

3. Communication…For the most part can like talk in complete sentences like without saying like ya know a whole lot or with alotta likes and stuff.

4. Angelic…This kid is right up there with Mother Teresa. Never, ever in trouble.

5. Boy Scout…This kid is always prepared for class and ready to go.

6. Quality of work…This kid produces some of the best work I have ever seen.

7. Interpersonal skills…This kid gets along well with their peers.

8. Self-motivated…You will not have to personally adopt this child to ensure that they complete their work.

9. Annoying factor…This kid will not put rubber cement boogers up his/her nose or do anything else that will make you want to set your hair on fire and run screaming from the building.

10. Overall, how would you rate this kid?

So, there you have my teacher evaluation sheet. And, yes, I really do use it, and yes, it does work.

And now, do you see why I don’t own any hair bows?