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    • Teaching Fail: When Acronyms Backfire

      Posted at 9:32 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on February 20, 2021

      My students and I have been working on argumentative texts, and I swore on Facebook not too long ago that I would ensure my students would never forget how to evaluate an argument and a source.

      So I turned to Google while lesson planning and discovered the CRAAP method for examining sources. All you have to do is ask yourself is this source CRAAP to analyze for currency, relevance, authority, accuracy, and purpose–and voila, the children remember how to evaluate a source! And they get to say CRAAP in the classroom, so it makes them feel like they can cuss but actually aren’t! Students love that cusp of danger feeling! 

      And my teacher soul radiated warm fuzzies every time I heard them say CRAAP while discussing texts about failure.

      CRAAP never sounded so good! CRAAP was magic! They were learning! They would know forever how to evaluate a resource!

      Well.

      It backfired.

      While my students did test corrections yesterday, I examined exit tickets that analyzed if a failure fluff piece from Medium.com was a compelling argument.

      What did my students do in their formal writing???

      Used the word CRAAP–EVERYWHERE.

      I audibly groaned everytime I came across a sentence that said “this source isn’t CRAAP.”

      Not only did they come up with incorrect answers (sigh, only like five kids said the source and the argument itself was crappy), they actually thought saying CRAAP in their writing was a brilliant idea!!!

      After having done a badass job of teaching how to evaluate sources and arguments using articles about failure, I WAS AND AM THE FAILURE AND IT MADE ME FEEL CRAPPY.

      Crap. Crap. Crap. Extra Crap.

      What if they do that on their benchmark???? Or god forbid the LEAP test????

      How do I get the CRAAP out of them?

      Well, that sounded terrible, but you know what I mean!

      Looks like they’re in for a crappy Tuesday because they’re going to be rewriting those exit tickets. 

      (Sidebar:  When I looked at these same exit tickets, so many students kept referring to the author by his first name. I asked my fourth block why–because they fully know to use the author’s last name. Their response? His last name was too hard to spell so it was easier to use his first name.)

      (gif credit)

      Posted in education, teaching, Uncategorized | 2 Comments | Tagged education, funny, teacher, teacher problems, teaching
    • A Teacher Tale: The English Teacher Who Hates to Read Aloud

      Posted at 11:31 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on January 23, 2021

      If I were to open my MyChart app for you, you’d see a scary list of my illnesses:  ulcerative colitis, fibromyalgia, Ménière’s, and IBS–to name a few. And while they sucketh harder than all marathons ever run collectively, most of my chronic issues are hidden beneath my cracked wide-open and bleeding (thanks visible psoriasis), painful to the touch most days (thanks invisible fibromyalgia), and purple-then-blue-then-white-then-red (thanks visible Raynaud’s) epidermis. 

      But if you were to open my classroom door and stay for a while, you’d see another of my afflictions (and I’m not talking about my very visible llama problem). While it doesn’t cause me any physical pain, the emotional distress it inflicts upon me makes me feel embarrassed and like a failure.

      You’d expect this funny, vibrant, spunky, whimsical (if I do say so myself) English teacher to be downright eloquent, a blonde version of John Keating in Dead Poet’s Society, but, y’all–I. Hate. To. Read. Aloud. In. Class. Because. I. Fuck. It. Up—-so hard. 

      https://media.giphy.com/media/vX39PBHlKLVcI/giphy.gif

      Why?

      1. I read ALL the time but–to myself. And while my dad read the funnies out loud to me as a child, I don’t remember other adults consistently reading texts aloud to me. I might be misremembering, because my brain is fickle, but I’m fairly certain that by middle school, we did most of our reading for English class by ourselves. What does this boil down to? I haven’t heard a shit-ton of words that I would recognize in print ever pronounced. So throughout the years, I made up my own pronunciations. Yeah, I used to sit with a dictionary to look up a word’s meaning, but I never bothered with the pronunciation. It’s a whole hell of a lot easier now to stop and have Google’s online dictionary pronounce schadenfreude for you than it was in the 90s because a hardcover Webster’s Dictionary lacked that feature. I’ve blundered through words like caste, propitious, and scythe because I’d never heard them spoken only to have students correct me. That shit’s embarrassing. And it happens all the time. Once I even had a parent call to complain that I didn’t pronounce yeoman correctly while teaching The Canterbury Tales for the first time. Sorry that I’m not fluent in Middle English? How often is that word used in casual conversation? Also, get over yourself. I can’t ever get ahead of myself either because the curriculum is always changing. Next year? I get a brand-new curriculum (woohoo?), meaning new literature and an unexplored minefield of words I’ve never heard spoken.
      2. Y’all. The amount of Greek, Hebrew, Latin, French, and Spanish that is embedded in the texts that we read throws me for a loop as well. This Midwesterner who relocated to the deep Cajun French South only knows how to say bonjour in French. I can read some Greek, from studying abroad, and am even better at reading Russian (thanks college), but pronouncing Greek and Russian words? Nope. I bombed every Russian oral exam. Last year I taught The Odyssey, and I told the students, hey, I’ve never taught this before, there’s a lot of Greek, let’s work through this together. And it took us several rounds to remember how to say Telemachus, Antinous, Aeaea, etc., correctly. We just finished Elie Wiesel’s Nobel Peace Prize Lecture “Hope, Despair, and Memory” last week, and I know I mispronounced every single thing in Hebrew and several allusions–despite looking up how to say them beforehand. It takes time to commit how to say previously unknown words to memory. 
      3. There are just some words I can’t say. Like magnanimity. Despite listening to how to say this word on repeat, I can’t say it. I go all Nemo trying to say anemone and start thinking about magma and then the Magna Carta, and now I’ve exposed you to the rabbit hole that is my brain. Sorry!!!!
      4. Fibromyalgia. Most of the time, my fibro is invisible, but I struggle with cognitive function and brain fog if I’m in a flare, making my fibro finally visible. It’s worse in the morning and at night. What’s it like? Not being able to pronounce words that you know how to say. Slurring your words when you’re reading or talking when you are dead sober. The inability to find the word you want to use, even when it’s staring you dead in the face. Transposing letters in words. Saying one word when you meant to use a different one. Not being able to form a sentence period in the morning when you’re supposed to get students excited about literature and the kids look at you like you’re stupid when language fails you. And now that I’ve written this, I wonder just how much my fibro prevents me from mastering numbers 2-3.
      Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

      So how does this English teacher who hates to read aloud because she can’t spoken-word well cope? She relies heavily on audio versions of texts, and when she can’t find audio, she explains herself and asks for a little grace. 

      As a teacher, talk about your own struggles, issues, illnesses, etc., to normalize that it’s okay to discuss things that society would rather see swept under the rug. There’s nothing wrong with saying, “Hey, Mrs. Ram is struggling today due to a fibro flare, so please excuse her as she tortures your eardrums while she reads this aloud to you.” 

      And answer their questions if they have any, and move on. Some of them will judge you, no matter what you say (or in my case how you say it), but you’d be surprised how forgiving students (and people in general) can be when you’re honest about your own limitations and invisible battles you might be fighting. 

      Posted in education, fibromyalgia, meniere's disease, teaching, ulcerative colitis, Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged english teacher, fibromyalgia, invisible illness, reading aloud, teachers who curse
    • A Teacher Poem: Going Through the eMotions

      Posted at 10:46 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on December 19, 2020
      plaster a big smile on your face
      even though it's hidden by your mask
      wish the mask covered up your eyes too
      because you're end of the school year tired but it's only December
      because it's hard to fake enthusiasm with your retinas and your pupils

      remind your in-person pupils, all twelve of them, to keep their space
      don't touch his desk
      or his backpack
      or his breakfast

      pinch your nose and close your eyes while you tell him for the umpteenth time to get his mask over his nose
      lose your mind as he covers his eyeballs with it
      because the sass, the audacity, is too much
      because you're jealous

      begin going through the eMotions

      start your Google Meet
      check you COVID screening spreadsheet
      tell a student that if she doesn't turn her camera on, she will be marked absent
      she doesn't
      choke on your sigh of frustration
      because she never listens
      because you don't know if she's with her mom or her dad
      because she might not even be there
      because you don't know if she has anything to eat today
      be thankful that the resolution sucks so the kids at home don't see the tear leaking out of your left eye
      but the resolution IRL works just fine
      nobody sees anyway because they're teenagers who have screens for faces

      you're overwhelmed by going through the eMotions

      put on a dog and pony show, a three ring circus, an Oscar worthy performance to try to get anybody to talk during the lesson
      but the only thing you can hear is the clack clack clack of the keys

      let them type their exit tickets while you recall pen and paper with nostalgia, the worst emotion of them all

      work on fully digitizing a week's worth of lessons
      turn pink and then red when you remember you can't use anything you've spent hours creating next school year because the curriculum is switching for the second time in two years
      angry pound the keys as you type with a force that could shatter
      your fingernails
      your desk
      the county

      because you're tired of going through the eMotions

      sift through Google Classroom for an assignment that he completed three weeks late that he expects to be graded RIGHT NOW
      and so does his mom
      she's only emailed you five times about it
      you've responded once in return
      the assignment's only half done
      like the school year
      like your sanity
      like your self-esteem

      ignore the other late work emails

      rest your forehead on your desk
      stare at your lap and breathe, breathe, breathe deep
      look up to see if anyone witnessed your saga, your mental break down, your calamity
      but they're teenagers who have screens for faces and Ray-Bradbury-is-rolling-over-in-his-grave
      AirPods
      because they're only concerned about their own emotions, not yours

      and you're marrow-deep tired of going through the eMotions

      so

      you hand them a book--tactile, paper, cover, spine, pages to turn, black ink
      and they stare at it like their mom put Brussels sprouts on their plate
      when you've actually given them chocolate cake

      because you're tired of eMotions

      you smile, a real one this time, that lights up your bloodshot eyes
      because books
      because the bell rang
      because it's finally break
      and you've got two weeks off from going through the motions

      try to turn off your inner monologue as you power down your Dell
      but you know that you'll spend your entire break
      going through your emotions
      Posted in education, poems, poetry, teaching | 0 Comments | Tagged poems, poems about teaching, poetry
    • Mrs. Ram’s Holiday Gift Guide for Teachers

      Posted at 10:41 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on December 12, 2020

      Tired of giving gift cards, coffee mugs, and home-baked goodies to your children’s teachers every year for Christmas? 

      Have you put off shopping for teacher gifts because you lack good ideas?

      Look no further! I’ve got some great teacher gift ideas for you.

      Plants. I squealed in delight when the school librarian dropped off this perfect little succulent in my room this week.

      Once, I received a begonia hanging basket and about died on the spot. If your child showed up with a tiny poinsettia for me, I would explode with Christmas joy. Seriously, consider giving plants this Christmas. They’re inexpensive and unexpected. 

      A lunch-sized Crock-Pot. If you’re willing to spend a little more on a Christmas gift, this is perfect for teachers. I purchased one for myself, and it has been life-changing. Some schools don’t allow teachers to have their own microwaves in their rooms, and right now using a communal microwave grosses me out. With COVID, lots of teachers have to monitor students during lunch and can barely find the time to eat, let alone heat up their lunch. I plug in my baby Crock-Pot at the end of third block, and my chicken and veggie soup or pot roast is the perfect temperature by the end of fourth block. Every teacher I know who has one can’t live without theirs. 

      Cool handmade shit you or your friends make.  ‘Tis the season to promote yourself! Last year, I received a gorgeous pottery ornament and bowl made by a student’s mother. I’ve gotten the most delicious salsa that a student’s mother sells, and once I tasted it, I turned around and bought some to give to my friends for Christmas. And while I’m not crafty, I have friends who are. One of my besties from high school makes the MOST gorgeous and fantastic artisan soaps, so guess what Little Thing’s teachers are getting this year?

      (Here’s a link to her website:  Persifer Soap Company.) (Image credit.)

      I’m sure you have friends who make earrings, bath bombs, hot chocolate bombs, etc. Support your friends, and give the cool shit they make to your kids’ teachers. 

      Cool handmade shit your kids make. I have received gifts that have made me cry and are framed and precious and I will cherish them forever and ever. (Rambly incoherent sentence intended because I’m incoherent just thinking about them.) I had a student two years ago paint me this. I was a mess for the rest of the day.

      I had a student draw this for me one year. (Context:  Mrs. Ram, that’s me, loves Goose, my husband’s nickname, with Little Thing watching the two of us. I die now, okay?)

      Your kids are talented. I love to get their works of art.

      Gifts that relate to the teacher’s classroom theme. More than likely, your kids’ teachers’ classrooms are decorated with a theme. Mine’s decorated in llamas, so anything llama related is welcome! Llama sticky notes? Yes, please! Llama pencils? Sure! Llama stuffed animals, hand towels, or journals? Absolutely! Ask your kids how their teachers’ classrooms are decorated and go from there. 

      Gift cards to local businesses. Okay, I know I started this post by saying Tired of giving gift cards…but but but. Think outside the box with this one. Don’t just go with gift cards for Amazon, Walmart, Target, or Starbucks. Think local, especially with small businesses being hit hard this year. Give the gift of a manicure or pedicure! Give the gift of your favorite Mexican restaurant! Give the gift of your favorite florist or boutique!

      Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

      But in all honesty, teachers enjoy all the gifts they receive. They will love every coffee mug and Starbucks gift card they receive. 

      It’s just nice to be recognized and appreciated, especially during such a tumultuous school year. 

      Posted in education, teaching, Uncategorized | 3 Comments | Tagged english teacher, gifts for teachers, middle school teacher, teacher gifts, teaching
    • A Teacher Tale: How I Tortured My Students for My Own Entertainment This Week

      Posted at 10:51 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on October 24, 2020

      It’s no secret that my class’s content is mind-numbing. I sympathize with my students who have fallen asleep, cheeks pressed to their sanitized desks and drool unspooling from the corners of their mouths, lulled into slumber because The Odyssey is boring. Who can blame them? It’s terribly long, was written eons ago, and is a poem. I struggle to contain my excitement, too.

      (You have no idea how much middle schoolers loathe poetry. But I adore yelling:  Guess what? We’re going to read a poem today!!!! And delight in the resounding chorus of teenage groans of displeasure following my pronouncement.) 

      Anyway, to further torture students, I try to make it as awkward as possible for my own entertainment.

      Because messing with the kids is the best part of my job. 

      Here’s how I tortured my students this week:

      1. I made them do their work in Kami. If you’re unfamiliar with Kami, it’s a PDF annotation program. The students despise it because despite an autosave feature, it only saves frequently not constantly. Apparently they’ve never known the despair of writing an essay in Microsoft Word that you’ve stayed up all night to complete that’s due to a professor in a couple of hours and losing your work because you accidentally closed the document without hitting “save now.” The. Horror. Google Docs has spoiled them. Experiencing the collective agony of pre-Google technology will make them better human beings.
      2. I made them talk to their laptops. Well, I specifically asked them to converse with Kami and ply her with compliments so she’d be more willing to save their work. An ALARMING number of students performed the exact opposite of my request and told Kami horrible, awful things, calling her names. One student even expressed to Kami a disquieting desire to light her on fire. Middle schoolers are terrible at being kind, but they loved talking to inanimate objects–even though they were being total Regina Georges while doing so. Weirdos. 

      (gif credit)

      1. I made them listen to the cyclops scene from The Odyssey straight through, it’s thirty minutes long, without stopping–on a Friday. Sir Ian McKellen narrates the audiobook for them, but Gandalf fails to impress them. I did soften the blow by playing some pop culture clips of the Lotus Eaters beforehand. At least I didn’t test them?

      (gif credit)

      1. I talked to myself obnoxiously to fill awkward silences. My second block refuses to warm up to me, laugh at my terrible puns and dad jokes, and to be anything but serious. I will loosen them up, and if it means I’m narrating my inner monologue audibly for the rest of the year, then so be it. 
      2. I called myself beautiful. Actually, I referred to myself as a “lustrous goddess,” like in The Odyssey, and the boys laughed in horror at a grown woman’s audacity at calling herself pretty. If you want your ego shattered, I suggest employing this strategy. Another good strategy is to ask them to guess your age. ONLY embark on either of these methods if you can brush off the comments and have a sense of humor about their reactions. (Also. What. The. Hell? What kind of society have we created that it’s not socially acceptable to call yourself beautiful and that it makes people and children uncomfortable when you do?)

      (gif credit)

      What did you do, teacher friends, to add a little humor to your classrooms this week? 

      Posted in education, teaching | 2 Comments | Tagged english teacher, middle school, middle school teacher, teaching, teaching middle school
    • A Teacher Poem: Invisible Students

      Posted at 8:17 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on August 22, 2020
      invisible students
      cameras clicked off and microphones muted
      can't even mark them truant
      because i'm teaching invisible students
      
      invisible students
      masks hiding their faces
      making them feel stupid and like mutants
      because i'm teaching invisible students
      
      who don't want to talk
      because nothing is normal
      
      the People in Charge 
      have stopped offering improvements
      because we're teaching 
      
      invisible students
      living in the paranormal
      ghosted translucent
      
      the People in Charge 
      are being imprudent
      because 
      They 
      don't care that we're teaching 
      invisible students
      
      
      
      
      
      Posted in education, poems, poetry | 2 Comments | Tagged poems, poems about teaching, poetry, poetry about teaching
    • A Teacher Tale: How My First Week of Teaching Students During a Pandemic Went

      Posted at 12:08 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on August 15, 2020

      If you’re not a teacher, have you checked in with your teacher friends who went back into the classroom this week?

      Sent them a silly gif of encouragement via text message?

      Venmo-ed them twenty bucks towards a splurge-y bottle of Pinot Noir for them to unwind with over the weekend?

      Offered your ear for them to vent their frustration?

      Or at least liked their end-of-the-first-week-with-students-during-a-pandemic Facebook post?

      You have?

      Good.

      Because it was probably rough on them. It definitely was overwhelming over here in Mrs. Ram Jam land.

      I made it through the first two days of only in-person learners just fine, but by day two’s end, my throat was on fire. From lack of use due to a five-month hiatus or just the normal back-to-school-first-week-malaise–or so I thought.

      Where I teach in Louisana, educators are teaching in-person learners and virtual learners simultaneously, and the first day with both, our third day, was particularly chaotic. Because the district’s network broke. I didn’t have high expectations to make it through much, but the whole experience was frustrating for learners and teachers both.  

      I woke up Thursday morning with a cough and a headache on top of my sore throat. I made the responsible choice and stayed home for the day, and my awesome principal let me teach from home. Google Meet didn’t work during first block nor second block, so I didn’t get much done with those students, but my last two classes went much more smoothly. Individual students kept having issues with their devices, Google Docs and websites lagging or failing to load, and Google Meet crashing.

      I felt even worse by the end of my last class. My doctor squeezed me in for a quick phone visit and ordered a COVID test for me, telling me to stay home for a week even if I tested negative because I have no immune system with all the medicine I’m on for my ulcerative colitis. 

      So I taught from home again yesterday, and while it went a million times better than the previous day, it was still glitchy and slow and crashy and frustrating for students experiencing tech issues.

      And it’s really hard to figure out how to help them when you’re not IRL in front of them.

      I also don’t have a good gauge of how engaged they are or even how much work they’re completing while they’re logged into virtual class, if they can even get logged in, because it’s impossible to run a Google Meet, answer their questions, help students troubleshoot tech problems, check my email for other issues, AND log into 20 different individual students’ Google Docs at the same time to check their progress. 

      Here are my takeaways from week one:

      • Always take your technology home. When I left school on Wednesday, I left my three work devices on my desk because I didn’t want to detach the chargers from the powerstrip, ruining my complicated teacher desk set-up. I’m lucky that I’m married to the network administrator for the district, and we have 105 different devices floating around at home, so I was able to teach from home on an extra device and my personal Chromebook. You never know when you or someone in your family will get sick, and you too might have to teach from home.
      • Keep it simple stupid (The KISS Rule). Don’t make your lessons complicated. Don’t make lessons that require students to have ten other tabs running at once besides their Google Meet too. I had to spend ten minutes teaching students how to split their screens on Wednesday because they didn’t know how, and I couldn’t even show them how to do it right because it wouldn’t work properly on my laptop hooked up to my SMART Board. Try to keep websites that require students to log in to a minimum. Most of my Wednesday was spent trying to get students logged into CommonLit and Newsela, two websites that the students will be using all year. It’s hard enough to get students logged into programs IRL and trying to do it virtually was ridiculously hard–even though to log into both of those programs they use the same login credentials to log into their Chromebooks every day, so you’d think it would be super easy. I still have students who can’t get logged in. Then once students get logged into new websites you have to teach them how to use them too. This goes without saying for any program you want the kids to use throughout the year. You will have to teach them how to use the programs first before you can expect them to do any lesson. I’m sticking to just Google Docs and Kami aside from CommonLit and Newsela, so I can teach content instead of having to teach kids how to use a different program every single day. Remember to KISS it.
      • Closed captioning is not your friend. In each class, I had a couple of students who couldn’t hear in Google Meets, so I turned closed captioning on to help them out, but can we talk about major backfire? Yesterday, I started going over Greek and Latin roots and how to break down words for parts. I modeled using the word “abhorrent” and then tried to work through the process with the word “acerbic.” In one class, I asked my eighth graders “How many parts does acerbic have?” I looked at my Google Meet screen and glanced at the closed captioning real quick and saw that it translated that to “How many parts does a cervix have?” My mouth dropped open briefly in surprise, and I recovered quickly and just ignored it, but how mortifying. I have no idea who actually saw that roll across the screen. Needless to say, I won’t be using closed captioning again.
      • Be flexible and realistic. Guess what? I’m already a couple of days behind where I’d like to be content-wise, and imma be real honest, I probably won’t get to my curriculum until Wednesday. Am I stressed about that? Nope. Am I stressed that my lessons are going to take longer to execute and that I have to streamline them? Nope. I’ll go with the flow and adapt. I am more worried about the students themselves and how they’re adapting to online learning and their frustration with technology that doesn’t want to work.
      • Don’t be chin surprised. With all of the everything going on this week, I forgot that my students had chins. And smiles. The students who I teach at fourth block eat lunch in my room every day, and when they whipped off their masks to chow down on their Lunchables on that very first day. I. Could. Not. Stop. Staring. At. The. Bottom. Of. Their. Faces. They looked like completely different human beings with their masks off, and this made me unbearably despondent. It just made everything hit home that this school year is so different and that I’m going to be denied their full range of facial expressions while they’re in my room. 

      As of right now, I feel more like tech support than an actual English teacher. And while I’m hopeful that this will pass and I’ll get into my groove, my Ram jam, of teaching poems, The Odyssey, the Hero’s Journey, symbolism, allegories, words, and writing, I’ve come to terms with our new teacher reality and I’m going to remain dedicated to not sugarcoating what we do to the general public (even though I approach it through the veil of humor sometimes). 

      Unrealistic expectations have been placed on teachers and students during this pandemic, and teachers need to speak out about it. 

      I encourage every single educator out there to share their bad and their ugly just as much as they’re sharing their good. 

      (Good news:  I don’t have the coronavirus! I got my results yesterday afternoon.)

      Posted in education, teaching, writing | 5 Comments | Tagged digital learning, english teacher, teaching, teaching during a pandemic, virtual learning
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    • Recent Posts

      • Mini Book Reviews February 2021 March 6, 2021
      • Teaching Fail: When Acronyms Backfire February 20, 2021
      • A Teacher Tale: A Rant About Cheating in Digital Classrooms February 13, 2021
      • January 2021 Mini Book Reviews February 6, 2021
      • A Poem: Mistake January 30, 2021
      • A Teacher Tale: The English Teacher Who Hates to Read Aloud January 23, 2021
      • Defund the Grammar Police January 16, 2021
      • My New Year’s Resolutions for 2021 January 9, 2021
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