words of wisdom

Student 1: "ms. chamberlain, is Jewish a religion or a race?"
Student 2: "it's a religion right? because i'm Jewish, but that doesn't mean i'm from Jew-land"

♫ when i required students to send me a message from our online grade system so i knew they had logged in to their grades:

"hi ms. chamberlain this is amber i am just emailing you because you told me to and i really don't
have anything else to talk about so.. yeah im going to go now."

"i think white people with dreads look like they need to pour water on it. like it looks like sawdust"

prior to the first parent-teacher conference: "MRS. chamberlain, i'm excited you get to meet my parents tonight. you'll recognize them because my dad is really tall and my mom looks just like me."
my (internal) response: "i'll also recognize them because they're white."

"ms. chamberlain, are Africans considered African-American?"

and the follow-up question: "if a white American guy marries an African woman, are their kids African-American?"

"ms. chamberlain, your eyelashes are blond on top!!!" (after i've spent 3 minutes lecturing her on some behavioral infraction.)


despite all the drama, these little gems always just make my day

No more pencils, no more books... (almost)

Dear Students,

Please do not come to me AFTER you failed 3 advisories and got a D on your final to ask me if you can do any extra credit. The answer will always be no.

If I can't tell the difference between "d" and an "a", I will mark the question wrong.

Yes, Life Is Beautiful is in a different language (about 25 minutes into the movie).

No, you may not leave the classroom with your whole bookbag in the middle of a test. Nor may you come back and finish it tomorrow.

"King of England" is not a sufficient description for Henry VIII, so don't try to argue for extra points.

Yes, I love you all, but I will probably not miss you one bit over the summer. And let's be honest, you won't miss me either.


Signed,

A still-Grumpy-but-slightly-Amused teacher.

Summer Vacay

In approximately 288 hours, I will be released from my voluntary captivity and free to enjoy my summer! In case you're wondering, I really do like my job... but when you're this close, you can just taste summer... It turns out that teachers are just as excited for summer break as the students. I didn't realize that growing up - I thought they just LOVED spending all day every day with us. Turns out I was mistaken. Somehow I don't think I'm going to miss the daily arguments: "You stole that pen from my desk!" and "Ms. Chamberlain, Rakim is still singing under his breath". And if I ever start to get nostalgic for the impromptu dance parties that break out in the halls periodically, I'll just remind myself that I'll be back here soon.

But in the meantime... I've got a pretty rockin' summer planned.

First, these two lovely ladies are coming to visit me:

Well, ok, there would be a picture if I could find one. A &A - why don't I have any pictures of the three of us?

We'll be touring DC for a week (just ask them about The List... let's just say I'm a compulsive trip planner) and maybe even making a jaunt up here:

Then at the end of July, Emily and I will be heading here:

and here:

and here:

And on August 13, my favorite sister gets home from her mission to Brazil!

Add in a few camping/backpacking trips, a weekend at Virginia Beach, trips to Kings Dominion or Six Flags, a road trip or two and plenty of extra sleep, it's going to be pretty fabulous.

June 16th can't come soon enough!


P.S. If anyone wants to join me on any of my adventures / come visit me in DC / more suggestions, let me know!

Stranded

A colleague of mine has a couple kids at the school and lives near several others, so she drives a few of the students to school every day. One of these students has been in my history class for the past two years (I teach two different classes, not because he failed), so I've gotten to know him pretty well. He's a very bright student, pretty quiet and very talented overall. He's the student that I really have to plan my lessons for, making sure that I'm challenging him enough.

Yesterday morning, this colleague reported that during their morning commute, they had been discussing whow they would take with them if they were stranded on a desert island. Apparently this student wanted to have me along "because she knows where everything is." When she reminded him that knowing geography might not be too crucial on a desert island, he told her that "Ms. Chamberlain just knows EVERYTHING."

I'm glad I've got someone fooled. :)

"We Are One"

On Sunday after church, I went down to the mall to check out the "We Are One" concert at the Lincoln Memorial. Designed as a kick-off event to a week full of inauguration madness, the concert was a huge celebrity tribute to our new celebrity president. We didn't get there early enough to get inside the secured area, but we got to see people like Bon Jovi, Jamie Foxx, Stevie Wonder and Josh Groban on the jumbo-trons a mile (literally) away from the memorial. My favorites? U2 and the fact that my kids were up there singing with Beyonce, Garth Brooks and Springsteen. Pretty awesome. You should check it out: www.hbo.com/weareone

On the way to the concert.
Just in case you were confused, the U.S. isn't a military state.

The crowds, just practicing for Tuesday

Jay and me, enjoying the crowds...i mean, the concert

Someone famous on stage. I'm still trying to figure out who it is.

A Rose By Any Other Name...

The spellings of my name I have seen in grading papers today:

Chamberlan
Chamberlin
Chamberlaine
Chamerlain
Chamberland

Really? Come on, guys.

They don't pay me enough

Some days I feel like I'm babysitting. Take today, for instance.

In my 6th period class, one student comes to class with his lunch because he had been rehearsing for dance class during lunch. Fine, take the tardy, sit in the hall for 5 minutes and eat your lunch.

Student #2 had just taken medication that completely knocked her out - she answers two questions on today's quiz before falling completely asleep. Knowing her history, I decide just to let her take it later and sleep through the class.

This particular class has quite a number of dancers. Student #3 cannot hold still long enough to take his test. The rest of the class finishes while he is making all sorts of hand gestures and (momentarily) tries to balance a tupperware lid on his head. I take the lid and his test away.

The quiz ends. Students continue working on a mapping assignment from the previous day. Student #4 has already completed his map and is thumbing through the atlas in his textbook. In an attempt to challenge him / keep him occupied, I pull out a stash of (fairly difficult) National Geographic quiz questions (thank you, Dad!) and discover that he's a geography whiz. Awesome.

Classes end. I sit down to take a break and to get some grading done. Student #5 is wandering the halls because her piano lab teacher isn't there today, and she needs someone to talk to. I don't know about you, but never would have gone to a high school teacher for dating advice.

Lunch. Check.

Naptime. Check.

Discipline. Check.

Educational entertainment. Check.

Shoulder to cry on. Check.

Party by Proxy

About a month ago I made some off-hand comment to my 6th period class that my birthday was on November 14. A couple of them actually wrote it down (I wish they'd take that much effort to write down their homework!) and promised to bring a cake for my birthday. I knew I was going to be out of town on my actual b-day, and I wasn't scheduled to see their class that day anyway, so I told them if they really wanted to have a party that we'd have to do it on the 13th. Well, the 13th came and went and ... no party. Not surprising, and maybe a little relieving. I'm not a big fan of being the center of attention (ironic then, that I demand attention all day long? perhaps.).



I found out today that a couple of my kids actually did bring a cake to school on friday ... but I wasn't there, so they had a party for me in the cafeteria at lunch. Thank you, freshmen!


—
Glitterfy.com - Glitter Graphics

Define the word "late"

So I've failed. It's been almost more than four months since I've blogged, which is really unfortunate because tucked inside those months was a kickin' summer break with lots of great story material. Sometime I'll actually get around to posting pictures, but you'll have to create your own captions.

My newest motivation for blogging is the realization that I talk about work too much. I'm hoping that if I write it, maybe I won't be so compelled to complain and/or tell stories about my kids. No promises, though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

12:30 pm. The bell rings, marking the beginning of my 5th period class. About half the class walks in a minute or two late, which in Ellington terms, is still early. Class starts, we discuss last night's (awful!) presidential debate and our thought-provoking quote for the day ("Illegal immigration has always been a problem in America; just ask any Native American"). The students had just finished a practice quiz on European geography when the door opens and my favorite (cough) student walks in.

Me: "Why are you 30 minutes late for class?"

Student: "I'm not late!"

Me: "Class starts at 12:30, and it is now 1:00. By definition, you are late."

Student: "But, I was downstairs with that guy. I didn't bring a note from him, but he'll write me an excuse note."

Me: "What were you doing downstairs? And what guy?"

Student: "The security guard guy. I went to the bathroom, he saw me go in there!"

Me: "So you've been in the bathroom for the past half hour?", generously thinking maybe he had been sick or something.

Student: "No!! I just went to the bathroom and then came out. That's why I'm late. He saw me go in there."

Me (by now, very confused/annoyed/amused): "Let me see if I can get this straight. The security guard is going to write you a note excusing you from class because you went to the bathroom? Which, incidentally, you should have done at lunch?"

Student: "But lunch is for eating!!!! You can't mark me late!"

Why do I even respond? Honestly, pure entertainment value. His excuses got worse and worse as the conversation continued. And he just can't figure out why he's failing all his classes. Why they blame teachers for poor performance is beyond me.

You're doing what, again?

Why is it that every time I take the time to sit down at my computer to post, I completely draw blank on what might be fun to write/interesting to read? I'm working on it. In the meantime...

"Washington D.C.? Really?"

"You're kidding, right?"

While I've heard it phrased a number of different ways, this is the general reaction that I get from people back home when I tell them what I'm currently doing with my life. I figure I should spend a little time explaining why I'm doing what I'm doing. In case you need an update, I spent my last semester of BYU (Jan-April 2007) in Washington DC doing my student teaching at Duke Ellington School of the Arts. Think of the movie "Step Up", but a slightly more ghetto version. Now, most people thought I was a bit crazy for student teaching here, but just passed it off as another one of my little adventures before my real life started. The shock came when I moved back to DC a month and a half later in hopes of teaching there permanently. Yes, I agree with all of you that teaching is hard enough without adding in the inner-city element. And I also agree that it's a little unusual for a little white girl from Eagle, Idaho to end up teaching in Washington DC. But I've always felt that if I were to teach, I should go to a place where I'm really needed. Not just as a history teacher, but as someone who can meet these kids where they're at, and help them get to where they can/want to be.

Let me introduce you to my world.

www.ellingtonschool.org

Stories will be forthcoming. (And there's no shortage of them, so watch out.)

The First Day of School (or My Pre-Teaching Anxiety Resolved)

Last Wednesday morning, I had one of those lightbulb moments. You know the ones I'm talking about - when you have the sudden realization that you've been thinking about something all wrong for years. An epiphany that really changes the way you look at something. Well, on Wednesday morning, I discovered that teachers at at least as nervous to go back to school as the students are. My knees were shaking as I trudged up the steps to the school, as I skirted around the security guards and the metal detector (after convincing them that I was, in fact, a teacher) and as I climbed the steps to my classroom. They were still shaking as I walked back down those steps because my classroom was locked and the key taken by the room's former occupant.

My school, however, has discovered an ingenious way of curing new teachers of that nervousness. Imagine this: you've slammed your finger in the door, and it's throbbing madly. Just as it gets to the point where you can't take it anymore, someone cuts it off. The finger, I mean. The initial problem - gone. Unfortunately, a much bigger problem has taken its place.

So there I was, a shaky-kneed first-year teacher trying desperately to calm her nerves and prepare her still-locked classroom for her first class. I also still hadn't received a roll or any sort of list showing who would be in my class. First period (my prep period) drags by, prolonging the time when I would actually face my first class. The bell fails to ring to announce the start of second period, so I stand patiently at the door for an extra few minutes to welcome the stragglers into class, direct them to their seat and point out the warm-up assignment written on the board. There are 12 (read: twelve) of them, all told. To those of you from Utah or Idaho, where a normal class size is about 40, this might seem tremendously small. In actuality, our classes usually run between 15 and 25, so I wasn't shocked by 12. When only four students showed up to my third period class, and even fewer in the succeeding four class periods, I began to worry. My nervousness about the first day was gone, replaced by frustration at the much larger problem at hand. I had only seen 18 students all day. Total. Students schedules hadn't been finalized before school started (and actually still haven't been finalized, a week later), leaving students with glaring gaps in their schedules. Students I had last year would find me in the halls: "Ms Chamberlain, can I come be in your class? I don't have a history class."

Aha. Anxiety gone.