Mrs. Ram's Jams

Tag: teaching

• A Teacher Tale: Teaching During a Pandemic Update #1

  Posted at 10:25 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on October 17, 2020

  

  Don’t get me wrong, pandemic teaching is rough, an understatement, but my teacher life got a gazillion times easier last week.

  My school had its fifth first day of school last week. What a weird thing to type, but it’s 2020.  Here are the five first days we’ve had:

  1. The first day for Group One students.
  2. The first day for Group Two students.
  3. The first day teaching in-person and at-home learners.
  4. The first day with both Groups One and Two on campus.
  5. The first day for previously at-home learners.

  At the first nine weeks’ end, our Home Based Virtual Learners (HBVLs) had the option to come back to physical school, and so many did. And while it’s fantastic to finally meet them IRL–cue me squealing in excitement through my mask while taking a HBVL’s temperature last Wednesday Jayda!!!!! It’s so nice to meet you in real life! Look at you!–It. Was. So. Strange.

  I’d just been teaching heads and necks, sometimes just eyebrows and foreheads, and instead of floating heads eerily levitating through the hallways on Wednesday morning like a Disney Channel show’s terrible Halloween episode, those heads were connected to BODIES. Some of my HBVL boys are GIANT, and it completely caught me off guard.

  And something that didn’t catch me off guard–the freedom afforded by being unchained to my computer screen for four blocks. Because with more HBVLs on campus, administration gave us the go-ahead to create a virtual school schedule, so I only teach virtually during third block now. 

  

  (GIF credit)

  I can stand up if I want. I can move around more, even though I’m still keeping my distance. I don’t have to constantly monitor the Google Meet chat, my email, and Impero (our student technology monitoring software) every single class. I don’t have to shut down a Meet at the end of every class and start a new one while trying to make sure the in-person students are social distancing, know what’s due the following day, and are walking into the hallway on time. There’s more normalcy, but I know it’s possibly short-lived with fall’s onset and increasing numbers of COVID-19 throughout the country.

  And while those students returning to school has made teaching a gazillion times easier, other aspects of more students on campus are troublesome:

  

  (GIF credit)

  • More students means less space for social distancing in the hallways and in the classrooms.
  • More students aren’t wearing their masks properly.
  • More students are sharing supplies and food when they aren’t supposed to.
  • More students are sitting in cramped classrooms without their masks on eating lunch.
  • More students means going through more sanitizing wipes, and who knows if and when we will run out. 
  • More students means more are showing up to school sick even though they should stay home.
  • More students is harder to manage than fewer students.
  • More students makes it appear like the coronavirus is disappearing when it’s not. 

  And like I said, I’m ecstatic more students are back and actual teaching is easier, but we can’t forget that this isn’t over yet. Please do your part to help keep all students, teachers, and everyone else safe. 

  There’s only so much teachers can do. 

  

  (GIF credit)
  Posted in teaching, Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged teacher problems, teaching, teaching during a pandemic, teaching middle school

• A Teacher Tale: What Teachers Really Think About Parent Emails

  Posted at 9:22 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on October 10, 2020

  

  Hey Parents and Guardians,

  We teachers are more than happy to answer your questions and concerns via email, but before you hit send, could you ask yourself a couple of questions first?

  Before you send that email to your child’s teacher, is it kind?

  We are working our educator booties off this year.

  A mean email can derail our entire day and even week. We cry over these emails. We lose sleep over these emails. We have panic attacks over these emails. We might even turn a little mean ourselves when we get these emails and lash out at our own loved ones in misdirected anger.

  We then have to respond to an unkind email, try to turn the situation around, and wait on pins and needles for another response, which again, could be an angry one. 

  It’s a vicious cycle.

  And before you send that email to your child’s teacher, can you find the information somewhere else?

  We are working our educator booties off this year, and parent emails create more work for teachers.

  Often times when you email us, the answers to the questions you’re asking have already been given to you. If you look on PowerSchool you can see the answer to why Johnny has an F. He didn’t complete three test grade assignments, and there’s a note for every single missed assignment. If you’re questioning our late work policies, the answer might be on the syllabus, which you actually signed off on, stating that you read and understood the policies laid out on it. 

  And before you send that email to your child’s teacher, consider if it might be better to come in for a face to face (or a Zoom) conference with all your child’s teachers.

  We are working our educator booties off this year, and parent emails create more work for teachers.

  It takes a lot less time for us to talk about your concerns versus us writing an email back.

  An email that you wrote that maybe took you two minutes to compose can devour our entire 75 minute planning period. Yes, it can really take that long to reacquaint ourselves with your child’s work, write a thoughtful detailed response, and proofread until we go cross eyed–because heaven forbid an unsightly typo exists in it that you could use against us, to further prove your point that we’re incompetent.

  And before you send that email to your child’s teacher, and this one is going to be hard to swallow folks so prepare yourselves, ask yourself, could your child be lying to you?

  Children lie. All. Of. The. Time. 

  They cheat. They plagiarize. They fib about why work isn’t done and tell tall tales about their assignments being done when they’re not. 

  They’ll claim that teachers aren’t helping them and that teachers don’t like them and that teachers are mean and and and and and and and. 

  And while occasionally these claims might be true, more often than not, they aren’t.

  And then when we point out these things are untrue, we still aren’t believed sometimes. 

  And before you send that email to your child’s teacher, are you a teacher too?

  These are the worst emails, emails from parents who are teachers too. 

  Have I sent a snooty, condescending email to one of Little Thing’s teachers?

  Yes.

  And I’m terribly sorry. I don’t know everything, I’ve never been in your classroom, and it was a really shitty thing to do.

  I’m trying to be better because I know how terrible parent emails can be.

  So before you email your child’s teacher ask yourself:

  Is it kind?

  Can I find the information somewhere else?

  Is it better to have a conference?

  Is my child lying to me?

  Am I teacher too?

  Posted in teaching | 3 Comments | Tagged english teacher, parent emails, teacher, teacher problems, teaching

• A Teacher Tale: Virtual Learning Concerns

  Posted at 11:30 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on August 29, 2020

  

  Like any teacher who has started the 2020-2021 school year, I am trudging uphill to get a handle on teaching my curriculum in a digital world. Who am I kidding? We’ve been “in” school for three weeks, and I still won’t even get to the state-mandated curriculum until Tuesday. Like I said in a previous post, “I feel more like tech support than an actual English teacher” at this point. And in this new realm of almost fully digital teaching (I’ve gotten rid of all paper including books this year), these are the key factors that I’m worried about.

  1. Cheating and plagiarism. With the interwebs at their fingertips and teachers’ minimal capabilities of monitoring students learning at home, cheating and plagiarism, already an epidemic in middle and high schools, will be more rampant. Yes, there are programs to help catch plagiarism. Yes, there are programs where teachers can monitor what students are doing on their screens. Yes, there are programs where students can take tests in locked browsers. But. There’s no way for teachers to know that students at home don’t have their phones out or even another computer out googling answers while testing. Granted, the way that most English tests are set up anymore makes it hard to cheat, but that isn’t the case with math or social studies tests. And there’s no good way to prove that a student cheated with this setup. I also already had a student plagiarize an exit ticket, on a question that wasn’t even really plagiarize-able. Last year during digital learning, I had gobs of students put straight up the first thing they found in Google as their answers to a test grade assignment about “The Cask of Amontillado.” It’s loads easier to prove plagiarism, but students will deny it even with the proof in their face (and don’t get me started on the parent denial of their perfect student committing fraud). I’m enforcing a strict plagiarism policy this year to make it hit home to students that cheating in any form is not cool.
  2. Being recorded. There. I said it. We’re required to record our Google Meets. I’m being recorded all the time and so are the students. No thank you. First of all, I don’t understand how legally this can be a thing. I’m recording minors. Everyday. Secondly, the students don’t want to talk, whether it’s because of the fact they’re being recorded or you know they’re just middle schoolers who don’t want to talk. Thirdly, it’s a can of worms. It makes it awkward to correct a student’s behavior. My tone is forever documented on that recording, so are the students’. It’s going to make organic conversations around literature die, and these complex texts that we read at the middle school level discuss adult situations. You never know what kids are going to ask. Romeo and Juliet have a wedding night. They commit suicide. Odysseus cheats on his wife. Men rape women. While I’ve always handled the questions the kids ask about these texts professionally, I would hate to think what an outsider listening to these conversations might think about my classroom. I can’t skip over these parts; the kids are smart, they get it, and they ask questions about it. (Now granted, if students are doing independent work or testing, I don’t make them stay in the Meet the whole time because their technology doesn’t work properly if they’re running the Meet and trying to do work at the same time, but I run the Meet the whole time so they can pop in and out to ask questions.)
  3. Parent criticism. Listen, I’ve always dealt with this, lost sleep over it, had panic attacks about it, thought I’d quit my job over it, etc. But parents now can literally hear what’s going on in my classroom and your classroom if the students aren’t plugged into a headset. My students are on silent to get rid of background noise for the whole meeting, but I have no idea what’s going on in their houses or who is listening in because I can’t hear them and I can’t see them either. It’s eerie to know that people are listening who shouldn’t be. Not that parents aren’t welcome. Or that their input isn’t valuable. Or that they shouldn’t advocate for their children if they believe their children have been unjustly treated . . . but still. I’m human. Sometimes my tone comes out wrong, or I’m being sarcastic, or the parents have missed what’s happened before with their students, or– All. Of. The. Other. Possibilities. Parents are being eavesdroppers. And that’s creepy. Sorry not sorry. 
  4. Shift in teacher and student work expectations. I refuse to be available 24/7 to students and parents because of digital learning. I refuse to bend over backward to meet unreasonable digital learning expectations. I refuse to run myself ragged just because society demands it so. I can still be a good teacher even while saying no. I’ve already shifted my paper-based lessons to be fully digital. Do you know how many hours of work that took? I now don’t get my own lunch break because the students have to eat in our rooms. Heck, I have to clock into work at 7:05 and I’m now with students until 1:15 every day, except for SWIFT runs to the restroom in between classes. I’m now chained to my desk in front of three computers instead of up and interacting with kids during lessons. When students are quizzing, testing, or writing, that’s my time to grade in class. That goes out the window with virtual learning because I’m troubleshooting device issues with kids and monitoring their screens constantly instead. I’ve got even less time to grade at work than I did previously. And the poor kids. No recess. No true group work. Also tied to their device, or devices if they’re at home. Often their technology doesn’t work. Lots of students can’t manage their time in class without a teacher directly in front of them. Their technology is a distraction. And I could go on and on. But mainly, I’m distressed at how we’re expecting students to be miniature corporate business people who can toggle among Google Meets, a lesson, and four other tabs when there are kids out there who can’t even get logged into a website they use every day.  They’re just missing business suits and MBA’s. Pretty soon they’ll be telling their coworkers, I mean fellow students, to “lean in” and be “team players” and throwing “synergy” around like confetti.
  5. Is virtual learning our new forever? Once the pandemic gets under control, is virtual learning going to be a permanent part of brick and mortar schools? If I have students who get sick or have to have surgery requiring them to miss a week or two or seven of school, am I going to be expected to teach them while they’re at home if the parents want that for their children? Am I going to have to be prepared on any given day from this point forward to teach students at home too while most students will be physically present? If I have to have surgery that requires me to be out but I’m able to teach from home, will I be allowed to do it? Should I be allowed to do it? Is it one of those just because we can doesn’t mean we should scenarios for both students and teachers? Also, just an FYI, it takes three to four times as long to cover material virtually than it does in person. Students will get less done and learn less if this set-up is now part of our new forever. 

  I’ve got all kinds of other things on my mind, and I know the above is all rambly and gluey and incoherent in places, but at this point, I’m not worried about being eloquent. 

  And I’d love for all those Higher Ups in education, whether at the school level, district level, state level, or national level, to be alright with their workdays being recorded and listened into by whoever just so happens to walk by while they’re being live-streamed into people’s houses. Just saying. 

  Posted in teaching, writing | 2 Comments | Tagged teaching, teaching during a pandemic, teaching middle school, virtual learning

• 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

• A Teacher Tale: Holy Shit the Students Come Next Week

  Posted at 9:39 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on August 8, 2020

  

  Monday is the first in-person learning day for my students. Wednesday is my first day teaching both virtual and in-person learners at the same time. 

  [Gulps. Takes a deep breath. Sings to herself “Everything’s gonna be alright. Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye. Everything’s gonna be alright. Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye.”]

  

  https://tenor.com/view/good-cold-morning-lullaby-shawn-mullins-gif-15555338

  I can’t express to you how utterly mush-for-brained and overwhelmed I am right now (as are all teachers at this point). I’m going to be spending my weekend curled up in a little ball of denial on my couch singing real lullabies to myself, not the 90s rock variety, conserving brainpower and energy for the Herculean task of navigating in-person and virtual teaching simultaneously next week. 

  Can I do it? Absolutely, but you better be damn sure I’m gonna fuck it up spectacularly for a while–because I have to do eighty million and five things at one time. 

  My teacher desk set up includes three different computers. I can’t even count to three right now without needing a break between two and three. I’ve got Computer #1 hooked up to my SmartBoard that I’ll be running a Google Meet on for my virtual learners. Computer #2 I’m using to join the Google Meet, so I can interact with my virtual learners. Computer #3 is in charge of ALL OF THE OTHER THINGS. 

  I’ve got my Britney Spears headset (I don’t know how to use it yet, but, whatevs.), and you better believe that I’m gonna pretend that I’m a pop star while donning it. 

  

  https://tenor.com/view/britney-spears-turn-around-smiles-pretty-gif-15473483

  And I’ll probably get distracted by it to the point where I forget that I’m supposed to be teaching and operating three different computers at the same time and making sure that the students who are physically present are behaving and learning and healthy and socially distancing and wearing their masks and not-convinced-that-Mrs.-Ram-is-mentally-unstable. (Who am I kidding? I want them convinced that I’m insane.)

  So, there’s all that. 

  Plus, can we talk about my BIGGEST concern for this school year? How am I going to pull all of this off without dropping expletives like a sailor while I’m doing it? For realz. I’m doomed. So. So. So. Fucking. Doomed. Fuck.

  (I joke. I joke. But seriously. I’m doomed. My cursing has gotten a smidge out of control as of late.)

  Think happy thoughts for all teachers and students as the school year starts.

  We need all the good juju you can throw our way.  

  

  https://tenor.com/view/bad-juju-dont-want-that-bad-juju-friends-phoebe-buffay-lisa-kudrow-gif-13642805

  And throw some other stuff our way too if you can–like soap, Lysol, Clorox wipes, etc. You could literally throw a bottle of liquid Dial handsoap and hit me with it in the face, and I would thank you for the abuse as long as you were donating the handsoap to my classroom.

   

   

   

  Posted in teaching, Uncategorized, writing | 2 Comments | Tagged english teacher, school, teaching, teaching middle school

• Teachers, Police, and White Outrage

  Posted at 2:33 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on June 20, 2020

  

  Outraged person on Facebook:  How dare you try to take money away from the police force! 

  My brain:

  Don’t say it.

  Don’t say it.

  Don’t say it.

  Don’t say it.

  Don’t say it.

  Me:  Where’s your outrage for taking money away from education? 

  ---

  Why are white people so angry at taking money away from the police? And why aren’t they equally outraged at taking money away from education? And why am I comparing these two seemingly unlike fields?

  While this is a complicated matter (major understatement, I’m aware), I’m sure I’ll manage to leave out important points, and I might lose sight of my goal during this post, consider this: White Americans feel threatened by taking money away from a system pervaded with racism and violence that’s staffed with undereducated men while looking the other way when taking money away from a field that possesses all the tools to help combat racism and violence that’s staffed with educated women.

  (Is there racism in education as well? Yes. Does it need to be addressed? Yes.)

  Now before your outrage seeps into your fingers and makes you angrily pound out a vitriolic missive, hear me out. 

  Yes, policing is an important part of keeping our country safe, but it needs massive reform and:

  Why do we as a country keep putting undereducated men in positions of power and paying them more money than women who have bachelor degrees? 

  ---

  • Police officers are overwhelmingly male, comprising 87.4 percent of all officers (https://www.statista.com/statistics/195324/gender-distribution-of-full-time-law-enforcement-employees-in-the-us/) and on average make $69,036 per year (https://datausa.io/profile/soc/333050). And according to Policefoundation.org (https://www.policefoundation.org/study-examines-higher-education-in-policing/#:~:text=About%20one%20third%20(30.2%20percent,percent%20have%20a%20graduate%20degree.), “About one third (30.2 percent) of police officers in the United States have a four-year college degree. A little more than half (51.8 percent) have a two-year degree, while 5.4 percent have a graduate degree.” So 18 percent of police officers have no formal post-secondary education. Often police forces require at least a two-year degree but that degree can be waived if potential officers have spent a year or two in the military. White officers make up 77.1 percent of all police officers in the country as well (https://datausa.io/profile/soc/police-officers).
  • In comparison, let’s take a look at education and teachers. Female teachers account for 76 percent of the field, and teachers holding a bachelor’s degree make a base average salary of $49,900 (https://nces.ed.gov/programs/coe/indicator_clr.asp#:~:text=About%2076%20percent%20of%20public,school%20level%20(36%20percent).).  Furthermore, all certified teachers must hold a bachelor’s degree. And 79 percent of all public school teachers are white (https://nces.ed.gov/programs/coe/indicator_clr.asp#:~:text=In%202017%E2%80%9318%2C%20about%2079,1%20percent%20of%20public%20school). 

  Why does all of this matter? 

  1. Teaching, a female-dominated field, requires more education but pays less money than being a police officer does. Why? Why? Why? (Do not throw the because teachers get the summer off argument at me. Let’s say a teacher spends five extra hours working a week outside of school during the school year. That’s 180 hours they’re not paid for–that’s an entire month of working without pay. That’s half of summer break right there. Then there are the trainings, conferences, and planning that teachers are not compensated for over the summer as well.) Also could you imagine an in-lieu-of-a-four-year-degree clause in the teaching field like there is a waiver for post-secondary education in the police force? In the police force, military experience is substituted. What would the equivalent of that waiver be in education? Observation hours? Student teaching experience? Those are already requirements for the degree . . . Also, studies show that the more of an education that a police officer has the less likely the officer is to “resort to force” (http://www.msnbc.com/ronan-farrow-daily/us-police-education-levels-and-the-use-force.)
  2. Does the outrage over taking money away from police departments stem from white, undereducated men feeling threatened that their good-paying jobs are going to be taken away? Does the outrage over taking money away threaten masculinity and the glorification of a violent, powerful male ideal? Is the simple answer to the outrage’s source that it’s a field dominated by men? Is the simple answer to the lack of outrage at education losing funding that it’s a field dominated by women? And all of this is further compounded by systemic racism, white privilege, police brutality, and individual racism. I guess the answer isn’t so simple is it?
  3. Do teachers work overtime? Yes. Do the vast majority of them get paid for it? No. Do cops work overtime? Yes. Do they get paid for it? Yes. Why? Because men would never stand for unpaid work because society doesn’t expect it of them. Go back to my point in the first bullet.
  4. Or maybe it all comes down to fear of more violent crime if some money is taken away from the police. Despite what you might think, “the violent crime rate has plunged by more than 50 percent since the highwater mark of the early 1990s” (https://www.themarshallproject.org/2019/09/30/new-fbi-data-violent-crime-still-falling). In 2018, there were 23.2 violent crimes per 1,000 people compared to 79.8 in 1993 (https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank//2019/10/17/facts-about-crime-in-the-u-s/). It is safer overall in America than it was almost 30 years ago. [Sidebar: but do you know what the only violent crime that is on an upward trend since 2012 is? Rape. (https://www.themarshallproject.org/2019/09/30/new-fbi-data-violent-crime-still-falling). Chew. On. That. For. A. Minute.]
  5. What is the harm in reforming the police system and holding police officers to a higher standard in an effort to get rid of racism and brutality? Education goes through reform all of the time. Not only does more work need to be done to reform education, but more work needs to directly address the racism built into its institutions as well. Educational policies, practices, and standards are not static, and the police force’s shouldn’t be either.

  

  Posted in teaching, Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged defundthepolice, police, teachers, teaching

• A Reflection on Distance Learning: How I Jinxed the 2019-2020 School Year

  Posted at 10:49 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on April 18, 2020

  

   

  I jinxed the 2019-2020 school year. For myself. For my students. For you. For your students. For everyone.

  Just kidding. While it’s intoxicating to believe I possess such powers, I know it’s due to the upending coronavirus pandemic. 

  But why make this claim? To build an argument against myself, I’ll examine my posts since the end of last school year (although not in chronological order). 

  1. Last month I wrote about the importance of student attendance, how students need to be physically present at school and miss no more than 10 days a year. Now, just a few weeks later, nobody has to physically attend school. Even though students are distance learning, it’s not the same as walking into a tangible building bustling with students, teachers, routine, and structure. My heart breaks because I miss seeing students’ faces every day and helping them grow, but it also breaks my heart because they miss going to school too. 
  2. At the end of last school year, I penned a post discussing how my classroom was ditching technology and picking up paper and pen instead, helping with retention and engagement and reducing digital distractions. Oh, how the copy machine and I reacquainted ourselves for three grading periods! Now, because of distance learning, everything is digital. EVERYTHING. Ugh. (I even miss the cantankerous copy machine in the teacher’s lounge. I bet she’s lonely.) Can you imagine being a teenager, having your entire school year reduced to a screen, and completing work daily on a device that screams at you to play games or watch Kylie Jenner makeup tutorials on Youtube instead of completing assignments? It’s a wonder students get anything done. Let’s not forget they’ve got their phone beside them, and they’re getting distracted by SnapChats, TikToks, and text messages that wouldn’t even be a distraction if they were sitting in a classroom. I could have my students read a novel for the rest of the year, but I don’t want to have them read a 330-page book on a screen. I actually had a student tell me that they missed doing work and reading things on paper. Insert crying face emoji here. And the sad thing is, I don’t know if I’ll have the guts to go back to paper once all of this, gestures vaguely with her hands, is over. The thought of physically collecting paper from 95 different kids and handling it without touching my face while grading scares the shit out of me. Middle schoolers suck at washing their hands and aren’t well known for fantastic hygiene practices in general. (I love them despite their sketchy hygiene.)  
  3. I also wrote a post about late work policies and changed mine considerably. I went from accepting late test grade assignments at a 10 point deduction and late participation work at half credit to handing out one late pass for test grade assignments for full credit and two late homework passes for full credit. Once those passes were used, grades went in as zeros unless students were in danger of failing. Now with distance learning, I’ve got to accept all late work for full credit, and while I understand this policy’s leniency and necessity, it nevertheless irks me. I’m also expected to post answers to assignments, so I’ve got kids who wait until after the answers are posted to complete the assignments. Do they really deserve full credit? Particularly if it’s just a participation grade? Furthermore, the rigor and frequency of my assignments have decreased because we were told to give students about a third of what we would normally teach and not make them too hard otherwise students wouldn’t complete assignments. Lots of the grades I’m giving, even for test grade assignments, are hey-do-this-work-and-follow-the-directions assessments. I have a hard time giving students full credit on glorified completion grades that they’ve turned in late. Now don’t get me wrong, I know some students are watching their siblings, might not be living at home, have a parent who is sick, etc., and I am completely sympathetic to those students, but there are some who are abusing the system. I caught a lot of pushback from parents for giving a participation grade for just checking into Google Classroom daily (could there be an easier assignment to get credit for????)  and ended up deleting it because dealing with the fallout for two days left me sleepless and a tad indignant. Does everyone deserve an A in an honors class because of this crappy situation? The grades don’t even count this last quarter. Ugh. So why do I even care so much? Also, don’t even get me started on the obvious cheating on true tests taken at home. 
  4. I also wrote a post about my love/hate relationship with Romeo and Juliet, and I was still in the middle of teaching it when school was suddenly shuttered. The kids finished reading it on their own because I couldn’t have them NOT finish reading it. They didn’t get to choose and scene and act it out, which is one of my favorite activities of the year. I wanted to have them perform outside this year because Shakespeare’s plays were performed outside too. 
  5. And last, but not least, I wrote something about how grading at home never works, and now it’s the ONLY option. Ack. 

  So see, my words have come back and bitten me in the booty!

  Distance learning has been an adjustment and has humbled me. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a perfect teacher. I am a reflective practitioner, and this situation has turned my entire profession on its head. Maybe I needed to be knocked back a few notches because I’d forgotten, albeit momentarily, that teaching is NEVER predictable, but this predicament is unprecedented. We all need to cut ourselves some slack.

  Thanks for letting me vent my uglies. I cannot wait to walk back into my classroom in August. 

  (Gosh, I hope that doesn’t come back and bite me in the booty too. Let’s think happy thoughts that schools will be open in August.)

  

  Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

  Posted in teaching, Uncategorized | 2 Comments | Tagged distance learning, english teacher, school, students, teaching

• PSA About Student Attendance

  Posted at 9:54 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on March 7, 2020

  

  Friendly (Albeit Possibly Unpopular Opinion) Parent Reminder PSA from Mrs. Ram Jam:

  Please send your kids to school. 

  Your kids have one job–it’s called school. Please send them to school. Unless they’re sick, there’s a death in the family, they’ve recently broken a bone, or they have lice.

  For the most part, your kids are not professional athletes, actors, reality stars, or gamers. They should not miss multiple days a school year for travel soccer, baseball, cheer, badminton, Fortnite competitions, Scrabble tournaments, or auditions. 

  Please send your kids to school. Unless they’re sick, there’s a death in the family, they’ve recently broken a bone, or they have lice.

  There are multiple opportunities for extended holidays throughout the year–like summer vacation, Christmas vacation, Thanksgiving vacation, spring break, fall break, and various three day weekends. Check the school’s calendar before you schedule a vacation during the school year. A two-week European tour, ten-day Walt Disney World excursion, or seven-day Caribbean cruise while school is in session is detrimental to your child’s academic well-being. 

  Please send your kids to school. Unless they’re sick, there’s a death in the family, they’ve recently broken a bone, or they have lice.

  Furthermore, it’s unethical to get doctor’s excuses for athletic competitions, auditions, and vacations. Your children tell us where they were or their classmates do. Your Instagram story even tells us where they’ve been. Also your actions, if you’ve partaken in these instances and even gotten a doctor to write you excuses for them, scream privilege.

  Please send your kids to school. Unless they’re sick, there’s a death in the family, they’ve recently broken a bone, or they have lice.

  Also, try to schedule doctor, dental, orthodontal, and therapy appointments for after the school day or during elective classes. When you schedule a biweekly appointment to get your child’s braces adjusted on Mondays at 8:00 A.M., your child is missing the same class or classes each time, which is detrimental to your child’s academic well-being. 

  Please send your kids to school. Unless they’re sick, there’s a death in the family, they’ve recently broken a bone, or they have lice.

  Please send your kids to school on time. If your child checks in late two or three days a week, they are missing the same class each time, which is detrimental to your child’s academic well-being.

  Please send your kids to school. Unless they’re sick, there’s a death in the family, they’ve recently broken a bone, or they have lice.

  Why do I care so much?

  1. Absences add up. Kids get sick. Family members pass away. Kids break bones. Kids get lice. Say your kid gets the flu and misses five days of school, but then you turn around and take them to Disney two weeks later for four days during the school week. Then your kid misses five more days because of travel soccer. Then your kid gets food poisoning in March and misses three days. That’s 17 absences for the school year. 17. 17. 17. That’s more than three weeks of school.
  2. An excused absence is still an absence. 
  3. It sends the wrong message to your kid and their classmates. Is your child more important than the other students? Why does your kid get to miss so much when the other students don’t? The students notice, and they talk about it. 
  4. It hurts your child academically. They have a ton of work to make up, and they miss the benefit of actually being taught the material and classroom discussions. According to attendanceworks.org, “research shows that missing 10 percent of the school, or about 18 days in most school districts, negatively affects a student’s academic performance. That’s just two days a month.”
  5. It hurts their teachers and their schools. There. I said it. I’m being selfish. For once. If you don’t send your kid to school, and your kid doesn’t grow the way the state expects him/her to grow by the end of the year, it affects my scores, my evaluation, and my paycheck. It affects the school’s scores and bottom line too. Your actions affect the community at large. 

  I’m not trying to be all sanctimonious here. Have I pulled Little Thing out of school to go on vacation before? Yes. For one day. One day. Not five in a row. Are two days acceptable? Sure! Let your kids play travel ball and go on auditions and miss a Friday or two during deer season. But more than two days? Multiple times a year? That’s sketchy. 

  Strive for no more than ten absences. The fewer the absences the better. 

  Please send your kids to school. Unless they’re sick, there’s a death in the family, they’ve recently broken a bone, or they have lice. 

   

  Posted in kids, teaching, Uncategorized | 9 Comments | Tagged blogs, school, schools, student attendance, students, teaching

• Why I Love and Hate Teaching Romeo and Juliet

  Posted at 3:34 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on February 22, 2020

  

  Psssttt. Here’s a secret. This English teacher hates Romeo and Juliet more than the Montagues and Capulets loathe each other. (I know. Gasp. Shocked emoji face. Call Karen in HR and fire me right now.) And because it’s entrenched in the freshman canon, I will never escape its overtly romantical clutches as long as I am teaching English I. 

  Why do I hate Romeo and Juliet and teaching it?

  1. Romeo, a whiny lover boy ruled by his teenage emotions, is my least favorite Shakespeare character. I spend the entire time wanting to smack him and talk some logic into him. 
  2. Benvolio sucks too. Whenever something big happens on stage, Benvolio summarizes the just-happened events for new-to-the-scene characters. 
  3. The way Romeo and Juliet talk to one another makes me gag. Love stories aren’t my Ram Jam. 
  4. The students harp on the fact that Juliet is 13 and never recover from it. They also debate Romeo’s age endlessly (The text never gives it.). They talk about this the ENTIRE time we’re reading. 
  5. It’s full of sexual innuendo, and I teach middle school. Need I say more? 
  6. I’d much rather tackle The Taming of the Shrew, The Tempest, Twelfth Night, Othello, or Macbeth. 

  And while I do lather on the Romeo and Juliet hate thick, I love teaching it for almost the same reasons I despise teaching it.

  1. I take my hate and shout it from the desktops from the beginning. It’s simple really. I let the kids know I hate Romeo and Benvolio. I don’t tell the students why. I string them along and build interest to hook them, revealing tidbits here and there why I hate Romeo and Benvolio as the acts unfold. I use my Romeo hate to teach characterization. I use my Benvolio hate to teach summarizing. I make my hate passionate, fun, and refreshing instead of letting it bring my lessons down. Frequently, the kids hate Romeo too, and we bond through our mutual dislike. 
  2. Even though it’s a love story and the ooey-gooey language makes me cringe, I appreciate the poetry. We analyze the heck out of the figurative language and poetic structure of Romeo and Juliet’s dialogue. For example, when Romeo and Juliet meet for the first time, they actually start rhyming together in their religious imagery-filled banter and wind up creating a shared mini sonnet, which is pretty freaking cool from a structural standpoint. 
  3. The kids relate to the teenage emotions running rampant throughout the text even though they pretend that all of the kissing mortifies them. We discuss why it’s important to not be ruled by emotions and how to consider situations logically. 
  4. The kids have zero knowledge of Elizabethan theater and England before they start reading and are fascinated by what they learn. The fact that it was illegal for women to act so men played all the parts blows their minds. They’re horrified and enthralled when they discover women could get married at twelve years old and were sometimes married to much older men. They have no concept that modern medicine did not apply back then, women often died in childbirth, and child death rates were high. They’re floored when they realize Nurse was Juliet’s wet nurse and that the word nurse etymologically stems from a Latin word meaning “to nourish.” 
  5. On the day we start Act I Scene 1, I tell them Shakespeare is a dirty old white guy to prepare them for the puns and hook them into the play. You might find this method a little shocking, but have you read this play? It’s full of inappropriate jokes, and while it might have gone over your head when you were in high school, my kids understand what they’re reading. If I didn’t prepare them for the dirty jokes, my lesson could crash and burn in a million different ways. They appreciate being treated like adults. When I handle it this way, it minimizes the puns, and we’re able to focus on the storyline and the structure. 
  6. Even though Romeo and Juliet isn’t my favorite play, I love Shakespeare and theater. I’m able to channel that love into a play I hate (My only love sprung from my only hate! Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.). I’m in my element when I’ve got the bard and a script in front of me, and the students see the best me when this unit rolls around each year. 

  

  What are some texts you hate but you have to teach? I’d love to hear! I’d also love to know why and what you do to combat your hate to make interesting lessons. 

   

  (Also, another shocker, I’m not a huge fan of To Kill a Mockingbird—but that’s a whole other blog post.)

   

  Posted in books, poetry, reading, teaching, Uncategorized, writing | 5 Comments | Tagged benvolio, blogging, blogs, drama, english teacher, i hate romeo and juliet, juliet, plays, poetry, reading, romeo, romeo and juliet, shakespeare, teaching, teaching shakespeare, writing

• An Ulcerative Colitis Tale: What I Learned During My Hospital Stay

  Posted at 2:54 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on February 8, 2020

  

  Hey! For those who missed it, I spent three nights in the hospital due to an ulcerative colitis flare. 

  I’d tried telling two different doctors at various times throughout January that my medicine stopped working, but nobody listened to me. 

  For a week before I was admitted, my doctor’s office ghosted me. I called. I emailed. Nothing. No answer. Radio static. (Long story here. If you want more details, call, text, or inbox me.)

  I felt like Demi Lovato singing “Anyone” at the Grammys.

  Turns out, shocker, that my colitis had spread further into my colon, and I needed a blood transfusion to replace the blood I had lost. 

  Because. Nobody. Listened. To. Me. Seriously. 

  Ugh.  

  But I won’t get into the entire story right now because:

  1. I’m still really upset.
  2. it should have never happened.

  Because. Nobody. Listened. To. Me. 

  ---

  Enough of the negativity. Here’s what I learned during my hospital stay.

  1. Beware the pretty pills. My nurses ooohhhhhed and awwwwwed over a lovely, jade-colored pill, presented to me in a tiny plastic cup. We never get to see colorful pills! Look how pretty! They said. All we ever see are plain-colored pills! Considering the sheer number of medicines overwhelming my system, I missed all the warning signs that this “pretty green pill” was the Green Fairy in Moulin Rouge. After achieving mind-blowingly high status twice in four hours, I, slurring my words, accused the nurses of slipping me roofies and refused to take more. Unfortunately, my mother called both times I was baked, and I had to hang up on her. Sorry Mom! Also, if you texted me while I was drugged, and I promised I would steal you some roofies too, come see me later. (Just kidding!!!!) (gif credit)
  2. If you spill your water all over your bed, you don’t get a new bed; you get put on a puppy pad.  I felt properly shamed. Don’t worry. At least they didn’t try to stick my nose in it . . .
  3. Teacher expectations are ridiculous. Sorry. Here’s the negativity again. What was I doing before getting a blood transfusion? Typing up emergency lesson plans. Posting student instructions on Google Classroom. Trying to line up a sub for the next day–while I had IVs in both arms. Just to make sure my students weren’t given short shrift by my emergency absence. How insane is that? Read what I just wrote again. Insane. Utterly insane. If you are outside the education field, I don’t think you’ll ever understand the pressures that teachers face. My absence also created more work for my immediate grade level team members, and thank you, 8th-grade team, from the bottom of my heart for helping.
  4. I am officially a vampire. I’ve got someone else’s blood running through my veins! Call me Bill Compton! Edward! Dracula! Bunnicula! Waiittttt. Why are the great vampires all dudes? I need to rectify this, Le-stat! You can address me as Rampire. It has a nice ring to it. (My brother, on the other hand, thinks this equates me with a mosquito, not a vampire, and I’ll need a reinforcement coven to convince him otherwise.)(gif credit)
  5. Never doubt the medicine of a good laugh. Two of my friends came to visit, made me laugh the entire time they were there, and brought me this hysterical card. My bestie from high school sent me these flowers with this funny card. And the Facebook-requested memes and videos brightened my days. Here’s my favorite gif that I received during my stay. (Sorry not sorry for the crass humor. This is hilarious.)

  And while humor helps, what happened to me is no laughing matter. If you suffer from any illness, whether invisible or visible, you are your own best advocate. You are the only person who knows what the pain feels like, and if doctors aren’t listening to you, keep speaking up–even if it feels like nobody is listening to you. 

  ---

  (I respect all doctors, and I am not doctor bashing here, friends. This came down to ineffective communication within a doctor’s office and between doctors’ offices and medical bureaucracy. What happened to me could have been prevented. I’m just relaying how unnervingly unheard I was.) 

   

  Posted in chronic pain, teaching, ulcerative colitis, Uncategorized, writing | 2 Comments | Tagged blogging, blogs, chronic illness, chronic pain, hospital, hospital stays, humor, ibd, inflammatory bowel disease, invisible illness, poop jokes, teacher, teaching, ulcerative colitis, writing

• Search

  Search for:

• Recent Posts

  • A Teacher Tale: Teaching During a Pandemic Update #1 October 17, 2020
  • A Teacher Tale: What Teachers Really Think About Parent Emails October 10, 2020
  • September Mini Book Reviews October 3, 2020
  • A Teacher Poem: We’re in Trouble, Shoot! September 26, 2020
  • A Few Haiku in Memory of Ruth Bader Ginsburg September 19, 2020
  • A Little Thing Tale: On Your Eighth Birthday September 12, 2020
  • Mini Book Reviews August 2020 September 5, 2020
  • A Teacher Tale: Virtual Learning Concerns August 29, 2020

• Follow Blog via Email

  Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

  Join 334 other followers

  Email Address:

  Follow

• Follow Mrs. Ram's Jams on WordPress.com