SCHOOL
UnMighty: If you had to pick a leader based on one quality, what would it be?
Student: Someone with a state of mind.
UnMighty: Which state of mind?
Student: What do you mean?
...
UnMighty: Tell us about your book.
Student 1: The book I read was called “Code Talkers” and it was about an Indian guy who served in World War 2 because America wanted him to use his language like a code that the Japanese couldn’t understand.
Student 2: What tribe were they from?
Student 1: I don’t know. Native American?
...
UnMighty: If you could do anything without failing, what would you do?
Student: Rid my rats of mites.
HOME
Wife: What are you writing about?
UnMighty: Twinkies.
Wife: (gasp) Are you writing about me?
UnMighty: Yes. It’s about how your body is starting to take on the shape of your favorite foods.
Wife: You are such an #*@#%&@.
(She sees that I’ve just typed this conversation.)
Wife: (gasp) Don’t you dare write that I just said that!
...
(Just left the grocery store with 3-year-old daughter)
Maggie: Gimme my donut. I want to eat my donut right now.
UnMighty: I'll give you your donut if you get in your car seat and act like a sweet girl. Can you be a sweet girl?
Maggie: That's me. Bing!
Showing posts with label Teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teaching. Show all posts
Friday, June 20, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
"Hooked On Phonics" Didn't Work For Kara
WARNING: This post contains direct quotes from people who have commented on the previous post titled “She loves to hate me”. Some of those comments contain profanity, hatred, and bad grammar. If you are at all sensitive to profanity, hatred, or bad grammar it may be in your best interest to skip this post and come back in a week when I intend to post a whimsical tale of my latest visit to the pet store, when I was playfully mauled by a litter of adorable cocker-spaniel puppies.
It is amazing the attention a little controversy attracts. Life’s little dramas are like the universal meth of society. No one is immune to it’s addictive properties. In every aspect of our culture, even the most passive observer will witness people regularly indulging, as if by compulsion, in the latest scandal. And the centers of gossip and drama have been well known for ages. Whether you’re at the water cooler, break room, employee lounge, dinner table, or somewhere else, “What’s the latest…?” is a question that is meant to tap the ubiquitous well of gossip which allows us, at least momentarily, to live vicariously through friends and family, and make our own lives feel a little less dull.
There are those, however, who will not be satisfied with the sporadic, vicarious experience, and therefore seek to create drama on a more regular basis in their own lives. I recently “met” one such person online. I stumbled upon her blog, was under the impression that comments were welcome, left one, and then learned from her response I really wasn’t welcome at all. Without retelling the whole story I will use the words of my younger brother Tom who, I think, summed up Kara’s experience and feelings in this short allegory:
I thought the encounter and the reaction of my visit to Kara’s blog were so unusual and, to be honest, humorous, I decided to write a post about it. And like all good gossip my post received a lot of undue attention. Most of the comments were from usual readers, some from new readers, and then a few from the "anonymous" demographic. Strangely enough, however, the anonymous comments were surprisingly similar and left in very close chronological succession. Coincidence? I’ll let you be the judge. (The comments have not been altered at all.)
Upon closer inspection any reader, with the literary skills of a 7-year-old or higher, will notice how similar these comments are. I am not proposing that there aren’t three people out there who dislike me as much as the comments would suggest. On the contrary, I’m sure there are thousands who dislike me that much, with the numbers growing with each new post. I just think it’s highly coincidental that there are three people out there who 1) hate me, 2) have such similar taste in insults, and 3) struggle with the same basic rules of grammar.
Now, I have no evidence that it is Kara who left the comments and have no desire to make such accusations. I’d like to think that Kara has moved on, and that she has not given me, or my stupid blog, another thought, and is, as I write, out swimming with her top heavy baby. But I do think the same person left them. So for convenience of writing I’ll call the anonymous commenter, “Cara.”
Despite the criticisms left by Cara, I would like to say that she is always welcome here and I wish to offer the hand of friendship and assist her with some of her writing disabilities so that when she returns her words will carry more weight. Let me preface my critique by saying all my advice should be taken with a grain of salt, as I am not an English teacher, and also struggle with spelling and grammar. But I think together, Cara and I can achieve more. Let’s get started.
In all three comments Cara has trouble with the difference between the possessive pronoun, “your”, and the conjunction of “you are”, “you’re”.
In two of them Cara tells me to “get a life” because she assumes that anyone who may have a differing opinion or different sense of humor must therefore, not have a life and should straightway go out and get one. I just think Cara has used some faulty logic here. Despite my vast differences with Adolf Hitler I would never argue that he didn’t “have a life.” On the contrary he stayed quite busy conquering neighboring countries, killing Jews, and sleeping with his generals. He had a life, despite the fact that he used it poorly.
In two of the comments Cara suggests that I am homosexual, but then turns around and contradicts herself in the last comment when she refers to my wife. This is not only faulty logic but also a poor debating technique. Your initial insult of homosexuality only loses weight when you reveal to your audience that I am married to a female. And I’m not saying that having a wife is indisputable evidence of heterosexuality, but doesn’t it help?
In Cara’s last comment she did land a hurtful blow when she suggested that teaching was not “a real job.” I admit that the teacher’s paycheck leaves little to be desired, but is society really at that point where our feelings for teachers matches the monetary compensation we provide them with? Friends and family assure me that this is not the case. But then again, they are “friends” and “family” and may therefore just be blowing hot air up my butt. It is entirely possible that they agree with Cara and think that I’m a schmuck for teaching. However, I can’t help but think that if Cara had held her own teachers in higher esteem, she may have learned something from them and, as a result not spelled “retard” like a retard when calling somebody a retard!
Lastly, when making any kind of insult you have to be careful that your wording doesn’t detract from what you are trying to say by conjuring other ideas in the readers mind. In Cara’s last comment she said that it “looks like the blogging is left to you instead because your wife is too busy making money to pay for your cheap ass.” (This again is in reference to my low paying job.) I couldn’t help but laugh here because of the way Cara makes blogging sound like one of the necessary chores on a farm, like getting the harvest done before the first frost, or fetching water from the well for drinking and cleaning. In my mind, I could almost hear my wife say, “Well I’m off to work. Looks like a storms rollin’ in, so make sure you get that blogging done early.” Also, had Cara done a little research she would have learned that my wife is a stay-at-home-mom, does not have a paying job, and enjoys her own fair share of blogging. So in effect, the argument just makes Cara sound stupid to anyone who may know my family at all.
Because I’m not one to give criticism without coupling it with praise I want to say that I think Cara has a lot of potential as an insulting hate blogger. Right now her skills are just a little raw. But with time I think she will become clear, concise, and efficiently hurtful. And with all the drama she creates for herself, I'm sure she'll have ample opportunity to practice.
It is amazing the attention a little controversy attracts. Life’s little dramas are like the universal meth of society. No one is immune to it’s addictive properties. In every aspect of our culture, even the most passive observer will witness people regularly indulging, as if by compulsion, in the latest scandal. And the centers of gossip and drama have been well known for ages. Whether you’re at the water cooler, break room, employee lounge, dinner table, or somewhere else, “What’s the latest…?” is a question that is meant to tap the ubiquitous well of gossip which allows us, at least momentarily, to live vicariously through friends and family, and make our own lives feel a little less dull.
There are those, however, who will not be satisfied with the sporadic, vicarious experience, and therefore seek to create drama on a more regular basis in their own lives. I recently “met” one such person online. I stumbled upon her blog, was under the impression that comments were welcome, left one, and then learned from her response I really wasn’t welcome at all. Without retelling the whole story I will use the words of my younger brother Tom who, I think, summed up Kara’s experience and feelings in this short allegory:
A couple of years ago I opened a candy shop on University Ave. It was a pleasant little business where my friends could come and relax in the company of familiar faces and indulge their sweet tooth. I sent around advertisements to let the locals know where I was and what they could expect from my little confection connection. One day, while dipping my apples a stranger walked through my door. A stranger! I didn't know whether to yell "RAPE", or "FIRE", but my initial thought was "Who does this bastard think she is"? I didn't know her from Eve, but there she was, bold as brass, standing in my candy shop. As you can imagine, I threw her out immediately. Of all the nerve!
I thought the encounter and the reaction of my visit to Kara’s blog were so unusual and, to be honest, humorous, I decided to write a post about it. And like all good gossip my post received a lot of undue attention. Most of the comments were from usual readers, some from new readers, and then a few from the "anonymous" demographic. Strangely enough, however, the anonymous comments were surprisingly similar and left in very close chronological succession. Coincidence? I’ll let you be the judge. (The comments have not been altered at all.)
(May 18, 10:56 pm)
your gay dude. get a life!
(May 18, 11:13 pm)
Your a freaking reatard. get a life dumb fag. You think your so funny dumb shit.
(May 18, 11:41 pm)
so your a teacher huh? I bet you wish you had a real job so your wife could stay at home and blog like the others. looks like the blogging is left to you instead because your wife is too busy making money to pay for your cheap ass.
Upon closer inspection any reader, with the literary skills of a 7-year-old or higher, will notice how similar these comments are. I am not proposing that there aren’t three people out there who dislike me as much as the comments would suggest. On the contrary, I’m sure there are thousands who dislike me that much, with the numbers growing with each new post. I just think it’s highly coincidental that there are three people out there who 1) hate me, 2) have such similar taste in insults, and 3) struggle with the same basic rules of grammar.
Now, I have no evidence that it is Kara who left the comments and have no desire to make such accusations. I’d like to think that Kara has moved on, and that she has not given me, or my stupid blog, another thought, and is, as I write, out swimming with her top heavy baby. But I do think the same person left them. So for convenience of writing I’ll call the anonymous commenter, “Cara.”
Despite the criticisms left by Cara, I would like to say that she is always welcome here and I wish to offer the hand of friendship and assist her with some of her writing disabilities so that when she returns her words will carry more weight. Let me preface my critique by saying all my advice should be taken with a grain of salt, as I am not an English teacher, and also struggle with spelling and grammar. But I think together, Cara and I can achieve more. Let’s get started.
In all three comments Cara has trouble with the difference between the possessive pronoun, “your”, and the conjunction of “you are”, “you’re”.
In two of them Cara tells me to “get a life” because she assumes that anyone who may have a differing opinion or different sense of humor must therefore, not have a life and should straightway go out and get one. I just think Cara has used some faulty logic here. Despite my vast differences with Adolf Hitler I would never argue that he didn’t “have a life.” On the contrary he stayed quite busy conquering neighboring countries, killing Jews, and sleeping with his generals. He had a life, despite the fact that he used it poorly.
In two of the comments Cara suggests that I am homosexual, but then turns around and contradicts herself in the last comment when she refers to my wife. This is not only faulty logic but also a poor debating technique. Your initial insult of homosexuality only loses weight when you reveal to your audience that I am married to a female. And I’m not saying that having a wife is indisputable evidence of heterosexuality, but doesn’t it help?
In Cara’s last comment she did land a hurtful blow when she suggested that teaching was not “a real job.” I admit that the teacher’s paycheck leaves little to be desired, but is society really at that point where our feelings for teachers matches the monetary compensation we provide them with? Friends and family assure me that this is not the case. But then again, they are “friends” and “family” and may therefore just be blowing hot air up my butt. It is entirely possible that they agree with Cara and think that I’m a schmuck for teaching. However, I can’t help but think that if Cara had held her own teachers in higher esteem, she may have learned something from them and, as a result not spelled “retard” like a retard when calling somebody a retard!
Lastly, when making any kind of insult you have to be careful that your wording doesn’t detract from what you are trying to say by conjuring other ideas in the readers mind. In Cara’s last comment she said that it “looks like the blogging is left to you instead because your wife is too busy making money to pay for your cheap ass.” (This again is in reference to my low paying job.) I couldn’t help but laugh here because of the way Cara makes blogging sound like one of the necessary chores on a farm, like getting the harvest done before the first frost, or fetching water from the well for drinking and cleaning. In my mind, I could almost hear my wife say, “Well I’m off to work. Looks like a storms rollin’ in, so make sure you get that blogging done early.” Also, had Cara done a little research she would have learned that my wife is a stay-at-home-mom, does not have a paying job, and enjoys her own fair share of blogging. So in effect, the argument just makes Cara sound stupid to anyone who may know my family at all.
Because I’m not one to give criticism without coupling it with praise I want to say that I think Cara has a lot of potential as an insulting hate blogger. Right now her skills are just a little raw. But with time I think she will become clear, concise, and efficiently hurtful. And with all the drama she creates for herself, I'm sure she'll have ample opportunity to practice.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
My Idea For A Children’s Book
So, the other night I was sitting down with my daughter reading, “The Lorax” by Dr. Seuss, and I started thinking, I could write this. In fact, my daughter could write this. It’s totally amateur. Half these words aren’t even real words. I looked them up. I’ll bet Dr. Seuss doesn’t even have a real doctorate. Eventually I concluded that if “Dr.” Seuss could write a book and be successful, I could write a children’s book and be wildly successful. So I got to brainstorming and came up with, what I think are, some solid ideas for my book.
My protagonist is a wizard. A boy wizard named Gary. Kids love magic, and Gary seems like the name of an approachable person. Gary is on a quest to find his family, which he was torn from at an early age. They’re polygamists and were part of a fundamentalist congregation that co-existed inside a very small compound outside of Waco: Waco, England. Gary will go everywhere on the back of his luck-dragon named Holyfield. We’ll have to give a little back-story and show that Holyfield is fiercely loyal to Gary because Gary saved him from angry mountain lions when he was still an egg and then Gary forced himself to lactate out of sheer willpower so he could nurse Holyfield as a baby. Every time they get in a fix and Holyfield has to fly really fast or kill someone with fire he’ll shake his head and say, “I’m gettin’ too old for this crap,” and then they’ll both laugh. The story will probably take place in two realms, which wizards like Gary have the power to go between; the Magical realm and the Gay realm. But he only goes to the Gay realm when he needs to procure new potions and spells from his magic mentor/supplier, a black guy named Anton. Anton will be the comic relief. He’ll have all kinds of crazy new tricks and potions that he’ll show off every time Gary shows up. And his catchphrase will be, “Abra-ka-Fabra”, which he’ll deliver regularly whilst resting one hand on his hip, snapping his fingers with the other, and furiously rubbernecking his head around. There may also be room here for a love interest. I’m thinking an Indian girl named Squaw. This would be good because kids love Indians with all their broken English and backwards ways. To broaden the book’s appeal, I think it should be educational. So it might be good to introduce words and scenarios kids should be familiar with. Maybe Gary could use his magic to help bust a meth lab or a crack house and then smack around and shake down the addicts for information on his family. Then they’ll have a heart to heart about the downfalls of drug abuse and the addicts will give scouts honor to never do it again. There should also be a chapter dedicated to sex education and how intercourse always leads to pregnancy and VD. (I’ll have to workshop some of those ideas, but I think this will make it marketable to the home school demographic.) Eventually Gary will have to confront and defeat the antagonist, the same man who took him from his multiple mothers as a kid and put him into foster care. I think the bad guy will be a mean cowboy wizard, named Sheriff Hitler, who rides a black Pegasus named Tupac who only talks it rhymes and drops, what he calls, “truth bombs.” And instead of six-shooters, Sheriff Hitler will carry two magic wands, which shoot lightning. And every time he blasts one of his enemies with his lightning wands he’ll do a victory dance, which is just of lot of pelvic thrusting while screaming “Cuminayeahaaa!” like Neil Diamond. Since kids like a happy ending I don’t think Gary will kill the Sheriff. Instead he’ll teach him the true meaning of Christmas when he spares the Sheriff from death in the final battle. That’s also a good idea because it leaves it open for a sequel where we find out that Sheriff Hitler is really Gary’s father.
That’s all I have so far, but what to you think? Too cliché?
My protagonist is a wizard. A boy wizard named Gary. Kids love magic, and Gary seems like the name of an approachable person. Gary is on a quest to find his family, which he was torn from at an early age. They’re polygamists and were part of a fundamentalist congregation that co-existed inside a very small compound outside of Waco: Waco, England. Gary will go everywhere on the back of his luck-dragon named Holyfield. We’ll have to give a little back-story and show that Holyfield is fiercely loyal to Gary because Gary saved him from angry mountain lions when he was still an egg and then Gary forced himself to lactate out of sheer willpower so he could nurse Holyfield as a baby. Every time they get in a fix and Holyfield has to fly really fast or kill someone with fire he’ll shake his head and say, “I’m gettin’ too old for this crap,” and then they’ll both laugh. The story will probably take place in two realms, which wizards like Gary have the power to go between; the Magical realm and the Gay realm. But he only goes to the Gay realm when he needs to procure new potions and spells from his magic mentor/supplier, a black guy named Anton. Anton will be the comic relief. He’ll have all kinds of crazy new tricks and potions that he’ll show off every time Gary shows up. And his catchphrase will be, “Abra-ka-Fabra”, which he’ll deliver regularly whilst resting one hand on his hip, snapping his fingers with the other, and furiously rubbernecking his head around. There may also be room here for a love interest. I’m thinking an Indian girl named Squaw. This would be good because kids love Indians with all their broken English and backwards ways. To broaden the book’s appeal, I think it should be educational. So it might be good to introduce words and scenarios kids should be familiar with. Maybe Gary could use his magic to help bust a meth lab or a crack house and then smack around and shake down the addicts for information on his family. Then they’ll have a heart to heart about the downfalls of drug abuse and the addicts will give scouts honor to never do it again. There should also be a chapter dedicated to sex education and how intercourse always leads to pregnancy and VD. (I’ll have to workshop some of those ideas, but I think this will make it marketable to the home school demographic.) Eventually Gary will have to confront and defeat the antagonist, the same man who took him from his multiple mothers as a kid and put him into foster care. I think the bad guy will be a mean cowboy wizard, named Sheriff Hitler, who rides a black Pegasus named Tupac who only talks it rhymes and drops, what he calls, “truth bombs.” And instead of six-shooters, Sheriff Hitler will carry two magic wands, which shoot lightning. And every time he blasts one of his enemies with his lightning wands he’ll do a victory dance, which is just of lot of pelvic thrusting while screaming “Cuminayeahaaa!” like Neil Diamond. Since kids like a happy ending I don’t think Gary will kill the Sheriff. Instead he’ll teach him the true meaning of Christmas when he spares the Sheriff from death in the final battle. That’s also a good idea because it leaves it open for a sequel where we find out that Sheriff Hitler is really Gary’s father.
That’s all I have so far, but what to you think? Too cliché?
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Top 10 Signs You’re Subconsciously Ready To Quit Your Teaching Job
10) Your students know more about Texas Hold’em than History.
9) When you come across a fight in the hall, instead of breaking it up you prefer to take bets.
8) When you get caught in the bathroom smoking, you refuse to remove the cigarette from your lips before you tell the principle to “bite me!”
7) You love to teach the kids of the “good ol’ days” by constant use of corporal punishment.
6) You can lecture for hours on the qualities of navel lint whilst extracting samples along the way.
5) Your favorite object lesson includes Nazi uniforms, the parking lot, and a giant pile of burning books.
4) When a parent comes to talk to you about why their child is doing poorly the only explanation you can muster is, “Well, stupidity breeds stupidity.”
3) Your way of “preparing kids for the real world” is by administering the occasional sucker punch, and stealing their lunch money.
2) You stopped bothering to learn names long ago and now just refer to all your students as “Numb-Nuts”.
1) In a year end self evaluation, you give yourself an F.
9) When you come across a fight in the hall, instead of breaking it up you prefer to take bets.
8) When you get caught in the bathroom smoking, you refuse to remove the cigarette from your lips before you tell the principle to “bite me!”
7) You love to teach the kids of the “good ol’ days” by constant use of corporal punishment.
6) You can lecture for hours on the qualities of navel lint whilst extracting samples along the way.
5) Your favorite object lesson includes Nazi uniforms, the parking lot, and a giant pile of burning books.
4) When a parent comes to talk to you about why their child is doing poorly the only explanation you can muster is, “Well, stupidity breeds stupidity.”
3) Your way of “preparing kids for the real world” is by administering the occasional sucker punch, and stealing their lunch money.
2) You stopped bothering to learn names long ago and now just refer to all your students as “Numb-Nuts”.
1) In a year end self evaluation, you give yourself an F.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
High School-isms
The Following are actual questions and comments from a few of my high school students. Names have been changed to protect the ignorant.
Paige: “If I were French, I think I would hate American food.”
Sara: “Whatever. I love our food. French Fries are awesome.”
-----
Jacob: “You don’t know how long it took Columbus to get here? I thought you were a history teacher.”
Me: “Well, I know when he got here. Do you?”
Jacob: “Ya. Like 1944.”
Adam: “It was way before that you idiot. It was like the 1830’s.”
-----
Me: Who would you like to follow around and observe for a day, and why? It can be anybody; dead or alive.
(I get a variety of answers. People from history, politics, religion, pop culture, family, etc.)
Me: Jennifer, how about you?
Jennifer: I’d like to follow my dad while he was fighting in Vietnam.
Me: Oh, your dad was in Vietnam? (joking wryly) What side did he fight for?
Jennifer: You know what, I’m not sure.
Me: Well, is your dad Vietnamese? (Jennifer is obviously Caucasian.)
Jennifer: I don’t know. I’ve never asked him.
-----
Trina: “Is England in the United States?”
Paige: “If I were French, I think I would hate American food.”
Sara: “Whatever. I love our food. French Fries are awesome.”
-----
Jacob: “You don’t know how long it took Columbus to get here? I thought you were a history teacher.”
Me: “Well, I know when he got here. Do you?”
Jacob: “Ya. Like 1944.”
Adam: “It was way before that you idiot. It was like the 1830’s.”
-----
Me: Who would you like to follow around and observe for a day, and why? It can be anybody; dead or alive.
(I get a variety of answers. People from history, politics, religion, pop culture, family, etc.)
Me: Jennifer, how about you?
Jennifer: I’d like to follow my dad while he was fighting in Vietnam.
Me: Oh, your dad was in Vietnam? (joking wryly) What side did he fight for?
Jennifer: You know what, I’m not sure.
Me: Well, is your dad Vietnamese? (Jennifer is obviously Caucasian.)
Jennifer: I don’t know. I’ve never asked him.
-----
Trina: “Is England in the United States?”
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
A Latte of Deep Thinking
One of the reasons I chose to teach high school, as apposed to jr. high, is because I wanted the students to be at a higher level of reasoning. I knew that with higher reasoning skills came more opportunities for deep and meaningful discussions about the various subjects we would be studying. They would not only have the chance to learn the mere facts of history but they would also be able to explore their deeper meanings; the philosophical and cultural ramifications of those facts. Today’s deep conversation was no exception.
Student: Mr. Quinn. Do you know what the weather is going to be like on Sunday?
Me: It’s supposed to be sunny with a 100% chance of rain with a cold front from the west and some snow flurries then a blizzard with freezing temperatures and a heat wave with possible drought bringing in a tropical storm with 175 mile an hour winds which should spur a typhoon followed by ship wreck and 30 days of night and rivers of blood, locusts, plague, pestilence, rabies, murder, male pattern balding, and…
Student: So you don’t know?
Me: No. Why?
Student: Because my mom is taking me for coffee on Sunday and I’ve really been craving a latte.
Me: OK.
Student: Well, I’m hoping it’s cloudy so I can get a latte.
Me: They only sell lattes on cloudy days?
Student: No. It’s just that I only like to get them if it’s cloudy.
Me: Well sure. That makes sense.
Student: If it’s cloudy I like to get a latte and if it’s sunny I like to get an iced coffee. Don’t you drink latte?
(There’s a long pause while I stare at her and contemplate not only the generational, but also the intellectual gap.)
Me: No.
Student: Mr. Quinn. Do you know what the weather is going to be like on Sunday?
Me: It’s supposed to be sunny with a 100% chance of rain with a cold front from the west and some snow flurries then a blizzard with freezing temperatures and a heat wave with possible drought bringing in a tropical storm with 175 mile an hour winds which should spur a typhoon followed by ship wreck and 30 days of night and rivers of blood, locusts, plague, pestilence, rabies, murder, male pattern balding, and…
Student: So you don’t know?
Me: No. Why?
Student: Because my mom is taking me for coffee on Sunday and I’ve really been craving a latte.
Me: OK.
Student: Well, I’m hoping it’s cloudy so I can get a latte.
Me: They only sell lattes on cloudy days?
Student: No. It’s just that I only like to get them if it’s cloudy.
Me: Well sure. That makes sense.
Student: If it’s cloudy I like to get a latte and if it’s sunny I like to get an iced coffee. Don’t you drink latte?
(There’s a long pause while I stare at her and contemplate not only the generational, but also the intellectual gap.)
Me: No.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
