My sixth grade girls cover their notebooks with Tinkerbell stickers. They love Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell paraphernalia is on back-backs, t-shirts and purses. This past year I noticed that Tinkerbell was bearing an uncanny resemblance to the pin -up art of Alberto Vargas. Yuck! Do you think the Disney merchandisers saw that, too? You bet they did. I think that is really creepy.
…of embarrassment,” I assured my squirming six graders as I passed out permission slips for the G&D program. That’s “Growth and Development” or, as we used to say back in the day, “The Birds and the Bees.”
My sweetest little girl, Annie, came to me took a deep breath and said, “I might be the first.”
I am happy to say she lived through the experience.
By the way, sixth graders are still babies. They like hugs and bringing in treats for the class on their birthdays. They may see more on the movies and television than we ever did but they don’t, I can promise you, know anymore than the rest of us did long, long ago. I think it is always a healthy sign that it makes them blush.
My sixth graders were asking me what kind of games I played when I was a kid. I told them that we played a lot of board games.
“Like what?” astounded there would be such a coincidence as that.
“Well, I guess you could say I played Monopoly with my older sister, Bonnie.”
“You guessed you played? What do you mean?” That was a murky answer.
“My sister was a notorious cheater.”
“She was?”
“Oh, terrible! She would, for instance, claim that she could collect $400 when she passed ‘GO’ because she was older.”
Then Keegan (not his real name) said one of those gems that only kids can come up with: “At least if you’re gonna cheat you should be fair about it.”
Truer words were never spoken.
Last year our sixth grade "graduation" was marred by behavior that was beyond egregiously rude BY THE ADULTS IN THE AUDIENCE!!! (I blogged about this in May of 07.) This year we decided to hold the ceremony in the morning (less time to drink and fewer rowdy siblings.) I will let you know the outcome.
Also, the girls, who had begged to dress up, came in outfits that made them look like junior hookers. What can I say?
Below is a copy of the letter we sent to parents and guardians this year. I wonder if we'll seee a difference. (I am hoping this is the last year we will have 6th grade "graduations" as it has gotten so out of hand.)
Dear Parents/Guardians,
The school year 2007- 2008 is coming to a close. The last day of school, May 22, 2008 your sixth grader will be participating in a culmination ceremony at 9:00 a.m. in the multi-purpose room. If you choose to do so you may check your child out for the day at the conclusion of the ceremony, or he/she may stay to the end of the regular school day.
There are a few guidelines concerning the ceremony. Children are encouraged to dress up for the ceremony but this should not include having to buy anything new. Clothes that would normally be worn to church would be ideal; long pants and nice shirts for the boys (no t-shirts or shorts) and dresses for the girls; no spaghetti straps, backless or strapless dresses for the girls.
We would also request that this ceremony be respected. It is not a sporting event nor a popularity contest; shouting, hooting or chanting are embarrassing for your child and simply not appropriate. Preferably, gifts, flowers and balloons should be given to students at home and would be distracting to the event. We hope the adults in attendance will be good role models.
If you have any questions, please contact your child’s teacher.
Sincerely,
This past week I got very sick with a cough (thank you students!). My doctor doesn't do "walk-ins" so I had to go to Urgent Care. Unbeknownst to me the old Urgent Care was closed up. I called my dear hubby in a despair who found a new one that was close by.
The young physician’s assistant wrote me prescriptions for a nuclear strength cough medicine and antibiotics. A few hours later I had broken out in a terrible rash. By morning my face was swollen and my lips looked like Goldie Hawn’s grossly enhanced lips in “The First Wives Club.” My hands, feet, waist and the area above my arms on my back look like leprosy. Even my ears are red and itchy! Dear Gary helped me call various places and I got a new prescription. He even volunteered to go pick it up for me. In the meantime the rash has spread and gotten much, much worse, although the coughing isn’t as bad. Is that improvement?
Usually when I have had a long run of really good health I can’t help myself and brag about it which, as everybody knows, is the surest way to tempt fate, but this time I didn’t. I am as miserable with the icthing as I was with the coughing. Surely there is a lesson to be learned here but I’ll be damned if I can figure it what it is.
I am off to meet my new grandson. The adoption went through much faster than anticipated so I have been a woman possessed getting ready. I am packed and lesson plans are on my desk for the Monday the 24th. (This week is spring break.)
Check out my daughter's blog (Beso Mami -link below) for pictures of this beautiful young man.
Big brother Tom and big sister Lily are adjusting well.(Do they realize that Baby David is staying?)
We had a leak behind the dormer on our steeply pitched roof. I climbed up there with Gary to slap on the tar and flashing to repair the leak. Got my hands and clothes covered in tar but we think we did a good job.
I started to write a whiny vent, had to leave to get groceries as the cupboard was bare, came back and thought better of it.
Suffice to say that sometimes venting is exactly the right thing to do, that one needs to have friends and blogger friends who will sympathize, but this was not the time.
It is wonderful though, to know that there are people I will never meet, who will say comforting things, and that is quite wonderful and amazing.
Thanks anyway.
In case you have been under a rock NCLB stands for "No Child Left Behind". I don't believe anyone knew that it would become a front for the testing companies to rake in billions of dollars on the backs of children. In years to come all the horrors that have come about as the result of this egregiously misnamed program will fill volumes.
Having just finished conferences this last week I reflect on NCLB. All but one of my sixth graders grade's improved. All have shown maturity. These kids are funny, kind, smart and, yes, very sweet. I call them my "little cupcakes and sweatshirts." They know I love them.
One little girl, truly a tiny thing, about the size of an eight year-old, has an amazing talent in drawing, but academically she has done something I didn't think possible; she has failed all but one subject. Her mother says that this has been ongoing and now she plans on sending her to a commercial tutoring center. The assessment costs $4,000. The child has no learning disabilities. She really doesn't care. The mother asked, "How do you make a child care?" My caring and encourgaement have been fruitless and I don't regard punishment as a viable method of motivation as so many parents and teachers do. The mother and I aren't really on the same page on that. *sigh*
I still feel badly for this child, but in my ongoing "Let It Go" mode I have learned that I am not a magician. I am a teacher. I am human. If I could make all kids love to learn then I could move on to cure all addicts. Yet, NCLB expects all teachers to be magicians.
Rant #1:
I ran to the “U-Mail-It” (not its real name) store to mail back an unwanted (Danish modern???) candlestick and something else that I accidentally ordered. (Hint: be careful what you leave in your cart: Amazon will mail it to you and, doggone it, charge you for it, too!) There were two men of a certain age ahead of me in line, who appeared to be life partners; not in a flamboyant way, but in a sweet and comfortable way. After they left the clerk, who was a kid in his early 20's, I'd guess, made a nasty comment about them to his manager, then shuddered to show his revulsion. I was enraged, everything was rung up so I couldn't leave, but I did not know what to do other than be very cold towards him. (I know, then I looked like a jerk.)
What could I have done? I would like to complain to the “U-Mail-It” headquarters. I think that’s what I will do. Thanks. I feel better for venting.
Rant #2:
Went to the discount card store next to buy paper goods on sale. (See below about the red plates I lost and found. Don’t let me forget that the beautiful poinsettia plates are in the top shelf of my office closet!) The clerk made a comment about Christmas, and the man next to me in line, and a pathetic Mr. Know-It-All said, “Christmas is over.” Gee, really? Lately I have made an effort not to engage people of that ilk in conversation, and I should have done so this time but I was still brooding about the hate I saw at the “U-Mail-It” store so I said, “But the Christmas bills are coming.”
Mr. Know-It-All replied, “My daddy said to never buy anything you can’t pay for.”
Me, “Well, I’ll just let your daddy pay for all my stuff then.” Not the snappiest of come backs I know, but good grief, what a creep.
I am not a tattoo fan but I may need to have “Let It Go” tattooed on the back of my hand where it would be a constant reminder.
