wellkum tew koledge

Already it’s begun…

Poor writing has followed me from my years teaching high school to disinterested juniors and seniors to college freshmen.  I estimate that of my one class (which is close to 40 kids), perhaps 1/3 of them can write well.  1/3 write OK, in terms of answering the questions, but they lack the ability to reason amongst other things.  The remaining 1/3 can’t write and by reading ONE writing assignment, I can already tell that they are going to struggle.

Shall I coddle them?  Tell them that good writing isn’t a basic necessity?  Or, hope for the best?

Nah… I’m going to teach these kids HOW to write if it kills me.  If nothing else, they’ll learn how to write effectively, coherently, and concisely.  Perhaps a few will succeed in improving their writing, however, in all reality, most of the 2/3s will stay the same.  Though, I’ve seen kids GET WORSE… if that’s even possible.

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I have TWO funny stories for you.  Ready?

First one:

Last week, while hunting around for the “perfect” shoes (low/no heal, pretty, cute, comfortable–which means, I had to REALLY hunt).  I ended up in the BASS store (because they were having this H-U-G-E sale–70% off–which I can afford since the prices turned out to be around $20 per pair).  While trying on whatever I could find in my size, I looked to my left and there was #3 son.  He was sitting on the floor holding these pink-and-purple fuzzy socks with embroidered penguins on them.

“Whatcha doing, kiddo?”  I asked.

“Mommy?”  He always yells that, by the way, as if we were on either sides of a large canyon without benefit of a bridge or other forms of verbal communication.

“Yes?”  I looked around to see who started to notice us.  I hate when people stare and point and whisper.  He’s FIVE FREAKING YEARS OLD, cut me some slack.

“I WANNA THESE SOCKS,” he runs up to me holding the most FUZZY and PINKISH-PURPLE-PENGUINY socks imaginable.

“Uh,” how do I approach this.  I can say NO and panic, but that would confuse him.  I could say “sure” but then would have to stock up on bandaids and icepacks… the boys in MY town wouldn’t look kindly towards a little boy with pink-purple penguin socks.

“They’re for little girls, honey,” taking them and rubbing them on his face before putting them away, “why don’t you look through this rack and find something here.”  That was my way of indiscretely redirecting him without making him feel bad.

“I WANNA DEES!  THEY’RE SO CUUUUTE MOMMY!  THEY HADS PENGUINS ON DEM!”

They were cute, I have to admit.

However, I was envisioning the faces of my two older sons, both teenagers. My husband, who normally doesn’t twitch when the boy asks for a Barbie, would probably cringe deep within.  It’s bad enough the kid nags me to paint his nails (which I don’t, but if I do, and it’s rare, I do it in clear… but he wants the BRIGHT RED and the DARK BURGHANDY… he’s very much a subtle kinda kid)…

In the end, we purchased two pairs of flats and a pair of bright blue SHARK socks.  (He decided that sharks were more fun because they can EAT penguins. Hehe…)

 

Story two, and this is short because I suddenly am in desperate need of a nap:

I was taking attendance yesterday, while my college freshmen were working on a writing assignment, and I happened to notice a boy… I walk around a lot.  Sometimes it unnerves my students.

I moved to the left and there, right there, in plain view… the kid had his one hand DOWN HIS PANTS.

My eyes bugged and I quickly looked away.  A few steps to the right and I glance quickly to see if he closed up shop, but… he didn’t.

Now I’m curious… was he playing with himself, moving his furniture, or scratching an itch he couldn’t help but scratch?

A few moments later, maybe a matter of a minute or so, he pulls his shirt over his open pants (I can’t see anything, except for a partially opened zipper and an open belt buckle)… and I give him the “GO DO THAT SOMEWHERE ELSE” look…

I ignored it and started my lesson.

Ok… so when I asked a full-timer what I should’ve done, she said, “Tell him to goto the Health Center and WASH HIS FILTHY PERVERT HANDS.”

Then, we both broke out laughing.

Boys are SO goddamn gross most of the time…

Ok, more later… I need a nap!