Something To Think About...

When I started this blog, my intentions were to share a funny moment from my teaching career.  Unfortunately, the events in Newtown, CT brought me to a place of fear and sadness.  This horrific tragedy made me think about the kids in my class, my own child, and children in other parts of the world.  We live in a very dangerous and sick society.  It's a shame these babies have to be brought up in such a world.  I cannot fathom dropping my child at school, assuming that I will be picking him/her up at 3:00 pm, and getting a phone call about a shooting at his/her school!  If there is anywhere that should be a safe haven for a child it should be a school.  Our children are already robbed of their innocence and youth, and now a place that should always be safe is being ripped out of their reach.

This brings me to a conversation one of the children in my class had with me.  In Science class, we have been observing the phases of the Moon.  The children are supposed to go outside and observe the nighttime sky.  I didn't realize how excited they were about watching the Moon go through its different phases and actually knowing some of the terminology.  This is one of those moments I adore in teaching.  It keeps me from throwing my hands up and finding a position in Corporate America.  While we were talking about the phases of the Moon, one of the kids in my class told me he was having difficulty completing the log.  I asked him why and he told me that his mother would not let him go outside.  He had to try to make his observations from inside the house.  I immediately knew why.  When he told me that his mother told him that it was too dangerous in their neighborhood for him to go outside and make his observations, it broke my heart.  This little boy has been on my mind all week and today's events just opened the flood gates.

This little boy has a thirst for knowledge.  He asks me questions that make me say, "I'll get back to you on that." or "Let's research that together."  He can't even go outside to grasp the entire concept of observing the night sky!  Our world has become so corrupt that we have completely robbed these children of their innocence.  We've taken the fun out of being a kid.  When are the adults going to wake up and realize that we have to give these kids a chance?  When will we finally give them a chance to enjoy life?  Those innocent babies had nothing to do with that mad man's issues!

I read something today..."Our children are the future.  Once you start taking them, we'll having nothing left."  I just wish we all could understand that.  Give them a chance and stop robbing them of a bright future.

A Real Pablo Picasso

When I come in from work, I like to take at least an hour to reflect on my day, past experiences, some of the kids I've worked with, etc.  Today my thoughts floated to a real Pablo Picasso I had the pleasure of working with.  I actually saw this child walking home from school the other day and I must admit that I had to pull over and laugh hysterically.  I'm laughing now, just thinking about him.  

It is well known among my friends and colleagues that I can speak French and Creole.  On many occasions, I have been asked to translate for a parent or teacher.  At times, co-workers have asked me to call a French or Creole-speaking parent and I am always willing to lend a helping hand.  Unfortunately, this was a time in which I wasn't so eager to help translate.

Pablo (that's what we'll call him) decided to explore his artistic side with one of the Resource teachers.  I guess he figured he should channel his inner Seth (from "Superbad") and draw some very detailed "male parts" (if you get my drift) in class.  His resource teacher intercepted the note like a solid running back and proceeded to call the parent.  My esteemed colleague knew she would have a hard time talking to the parent so she decided to ask me to call the parent and relay the message.  After getting the story from the Resource teacher, I practice what I'm going to say to the parent and then come to the realization that I do not know the "PC term" for that "male part" in Creole.  It's sad to say that I knew every derogatory term for that word, but could not even think about the right way to say it.  Of course, I found this to be hilarious.

Before calling Pablo's mother, I figured I should find out the "PC term" for "male private part" in Creole.  My dear mummy came to my rescue.  However, not before flipping out and asking me why I have to use such language with a parent.  I explained the situation to my mother and after calming her down, I am finally ready to call Pablo's mother and inform her of her son's artistic endeavors.  Or so I thought...

When Mrs. Picasso came to the phone, I immediately got very nervous and started whispering into the phone (I made the phone call in the school office. Did I mention that I was speaking Creole? No one, but the parent could understand me!).  I began to inform Pablo's mother of his activities and for some odd reason, she didn't seem to understand the "PC term" I was using. The best part was that Pablo's mother did not understand the "PC term" I was using.  I made an executive decision and used one of the many vulgar terms I knew for "male private part" (my older brother and cousins would be so proud).  Needless to say, Pablo's mother definitely understood the word "zo-zo" (my older brother and cousins would be so proud)! She immediately started wailing on the phone and telling me that she was going to beat the crap out of him and ship "bounda li Haiti" (Translation: ship his butt to Haiti).  

That was quite an unforgettable teaching moment for me.  I don't think I can ever look at Pablo and his mother with a straight face again.  My question is...Why in the world was I whispering?  No one knew what I was saying, except for Pablo's mother!

Ti Fi Ayisienne Kap Di Betiz (Little Haitian Girls Who Say Bad Words)

I must say that I was blessed to be born into a family with a rich, cultural background.  Unlike some of my friends, I learned French and Creole and surprisingly I am very fluent in both languages.  Not many people know how I fluent I am, so I love to surprise them.  I especially love surprising the Haitian children and parents from my class.  Since I use my married last name at work, it takes a while for the parents and children to find out about my background.  I usually like to let the parents talk junk about me and then hit them with my little secret.  I listen to the children speak their "secret language" and drop the bomb when I reprimand them in their native tongue.  I actually find it very amusing.

The Haitian children in my class already know that I can speak Creole.  From time to time, they will speak to me in Creole.  They also love the fact that their teacher can understand where they are coming from.  It's not often that they come across a teacher who can really relate to them.  I have four Haitian children in my class this year.  Three of them are girls and they act like "madam nan mache kap fe feze" (women in the market causing trouble or spreading gossip).

Today, one of the little boys in my class (we'll call him James) was whining and screaming, "Stooooooooooop iiiiiiiiiiiiit! I don't want to heeeeeeeaaaaaaaaar iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!  Stop being nas-teeeeeeeeee!"  Of course, the whining was really irking my nerves, so I asked what the problem was.  James responds, "Bianca is being nasty!  She keeps talking about girls' body parts in Haitian."

Of course, I used this as a teachable moment and told James that "Haitian" is not a language.  I told him she was speaking Creole and then asked him what she said.  Of course he became very embarrassed and was afraid to tell me what was said.  I reassured him that he would not get in trouble and asked him to tell me what she said.  I know he knew what it meant because he looked around to make sure no one was close by and whispered it to me.

"She said, boubounne kale." (which means shaved <insert name of female body part here>)
At this time, my eyes got wide and I responded, "Excuse me?!?!?!"
James repeated it again.

At this point I was speechless, for a few reasons!
1.) I couldn't believe this little girl was teaching the kids to say nasty things in Creole!
2.) I couldn't believe James knew exactly what it meant!
3.) How long could this have been going on under my nose?!?!?!

Well, after meeting with James, I met with my three cackling hens and two of them were quick to sell the culprit out!

Unbelievable!  I must admit that I had been laughing hysterically since 11:30 this morning.  I am not going to say I was an angel.  I did my fair share of speaking "my secret language" with my Haitian friends in school.  It was great knowing that I shared a special bond with some of the kids in my class.  Although part of me was mortified over the incident today, I must admit it did bring back some happy memories of my childhood.

I Like Bad Boys!

How many women have had a thing for the bad boy?  Every woman has definitely gone through that stage.  I must say I have had my share of bad boy crushes.  Mark Wahlberg, Robert DeNiro (when he's playing a gangster), Jason Statham (he just gives off the bad boy air), and Ed Norton (when he was his alter ego, Roy in Primal Fear) are just a few.  And I am sure you will laugh when you hear about this one, James Gandolfini (as Tony Soprano).  I think I just loved how much of a bad guy he was. Trust me, it had nothing to do with looks.  But, I digress...

The student council at my school has decided to celebrate Valentine's Day by selling Candy Grams.  The kids have the opportunity to send one to their teacher, parent, friends, etc.  It was a cute idea, but of course it turned into a source of comic relief for me and the subject of tonight's post.

Most of the Candy Grams send the usual Valentine's Day message.  It's very rare for us to come across one that becomes a topic of conversation in the teachers' room.  Today was one of those rare occasions.  Apparently one of the little angels is quite smitten with a "bad boy" in her class.  She decided to use the Candy Gram as a means to profess her love for her "Rude Boy" (as Rihanna would say).

Dear Frankie,


I love you because you're a bad boy.  I really love bad boys.  That's why you're my Valentine. 


Love, Nancy

I must say that I was extremely relieved when the Candy Gram was intercepted.  Had I have missed the opportunity for that interception, Little Nancy would have definitely made a 100-yard touchdown and did Victor Cruz's dance in the end zone.  Who could blame her though?  Every girl needs a little bad boy in her life.

I am from the hood!

The children never cease to make me laugh.  Well, it must have been an awesome day, because I've been laughing since 8:20 am!  Now, as you continue to read tonight's post, you might say that I shouldn't laugh.  It's not what happened that was funny.  It's what was said that made me laugh hysterically.  So, here it goes...

I have a future chef in my class.  She wants to be a baker when she grows up and always writes about food.  This little chef is also a busy body.  She's like a little old woman who absolutely cannot stay out of anyone's business.  I guess you could call her "everybody's momma" and I am constantly telling her to mind her own business.  Yesterday I think she learned her lesson.

A new girl was added to my roster and all the boys are now starstruck!  Of course, Little Miss Busy Body had to stick her nose where it didn't belong and try to tell this new little diva what to do.  Our new little diva was quick to let her know that she would not stand for such nonsense.  Miss Diva responded with this, "I will punch in your face! I am from the hood and I will get my family to beat yo a**!"  When Little Miss Busy Body informed me of this incident, I maintained my composure and told her I would speak with Miss Diva.  Of course Miss Diva looked at me with her big, brown eyes, batted her eyelashes and told me she did no such thing.  I spoke with her about bullying and told her we don't do this at our school.

I also spoke with Little Miss Busy Body and told her that she had to learn to stop sticking her nose in everyone's business.  I hope Little Miss Busy Body learned her lesson, but I have a feeling the soap opera between my busy body and diva is just beginning.

You Don't Follow Directions!

Alrighty guys...I want to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich! Unfortunately, I don't know how to make one.  Do you think you can help me out?

That was the opening for writing a how-to.  The goal of this opening was to model how your instructions must be clear and detailed in a how-to.  I already knew I was going to act like Amelia Bedelia and take their instructions literally.  The children were really excited and couldn't wait to teach me how to do something.  Here we go...

I laid my ingredients on the table and waited for my instructions.

Students:  Get 2 slices of bread and put the peanut butter on it.

Me:  (I take 2 slices of bread, the jar of peanut butter and put the jar on top of the bread.)

Student #1:  Mrs. Daley! You don't put the jar on top of the bread!

Me:  Well, that's what you said!

Student #1:  No! You take the knife and put some peanut butter on it.

Me:  OH!

Student #2:  Yeah, then you put it on the bread.

Me:  Put what on the bread?

Student #2:  The peanut butter.  Spread the peanut butter on one slice of bread.  Spread it all over.

Student #3:  Then get the jelly and put it on the bread.

Me:  (I put the container of jelly on top of the bread)

Student #4:  Oh boy, Ms. Daaaaalllllleeeeeeyyyy! You don't listen or follow directions!

Me:  WHOA! I don't what?!?!?!

Picture that!  The children told ME that I don't listen or follow directions!  Look who's talking!  Welcome to my world!  I could put them in a million situations like this and they still wouldn't understand my pain!  I must say that I was very amused at their frustration with me.  You think they wanted to inflict pain on me?  Most likely...

Cake Recipes, Pages and Words

Imagine I needed a recipe for a story.  What would be the most important ingredients for my story?

That was the question I began today's lesson on story structure with.  I thought it was a simple question that all students would be able to answer.  I pretty much figured this discussion would take about 5-10 minutes.  I mean, this is something all the children know.  They've only been learning about story structure since kindergarten.  Well...let's just say the children NEVER cease to amaze me.  After some of the responses I was willing to play 'Red Rover, Red Rover' during rush hour traffic in the middle of the busiest highway!  A 5-10 minute anticipatory set turned into me wanting to pull my hair out from the roots and shove sharpened bamboo shoots underneath my fingernails.

After I presented the opening question, I asked the students to 'turn and talk' with their neighbors and discuss what were the most important ingredients for my story.  I asked if there were any questions.  I made sure no one was confused about what I was asking.  All the children said they were fine and did not need any further clarification.  I should have known better.

I gave the children some time to discuss and called them to the carpet so we could discuss it in a more intimate setting.  I even sat in the middle of the rug with a makeshift cauldron and pretended to be brewing a story.  The lesson so did NOT go my way.  Here we go...

Me:  Alright boys and girls!  I'm writing a story.  What are some of the most important ingredients in my recipe? (all this is said with such enthusiasm, which fizzled after the first two responses)

Let us begin with Annie (this child can't seem to take her mind off of baked goods) who says, "When you bake a cake, you are gonna need milk, eggs, and cake mix!"

Me:  Huh?  Bake a cake?  Annie, what are you talking about?  I asked about a recipe for a story.  I wanted you to tell me about the most important ingredients for a story.

At this point, Annie cocks her head to the side, opens her mouth, gives me the blank stare and says, "OH!"  I remember that stare quite well.  I used to give the same stare in Pre-Calculus during my senior year of high school.  I was EXTRA special in Math. But I digress...

Surprisingly, I held it together.  I figured...she likes baked goods, she heard the word recipe, maybe she lost sight of what I was asking.  Of course, the rest of the class laughed hysterically. After about 2 minutes of calming them down, we were ready to continue with our discussion.

I asked the question again and called on another student.  His response was, "Illustrations?"  I expected that response.  We discussed how some stories have illustrations.  However, not all stories have illustrations and I showed him a chapter book.  He understood and we moved on.  As we continued our discussion, some students were able to give me what I was looking for (characters, setting, plot, and/or beginning, middle, and end).

Then Kevin raised his hand.  I figured he was going to give me an example of a story he read.  Unfortunately, I was not prepared for what he was about to say.  Kevin proudly says, "When you're writing a story, you must have pages and words."  At first I thought he was trying to be funny.  Not exactly...he was serious.  I sat there dumbfounded for a few seconds and the children erupted into laughter.

Between the cake recipe response and Kevin's about pages and words, I just wanted to crawl under a rock.  I laugh about it now. I'm glad I can laugh about it after the fact.  This blog helps me laugh about it too.  If I didn't laugh about it, I would go crazy.

Pay Attention to Your Children

My blog is called the Daley Laugh: Tales of an Elementary School Teacher.  Most of my posts are meant to make you laugh.  They are also a way to get some stuff off my chest.  Today's post is on a more serious note.  However, I hope that everyone who reads this heeds my advice and really takes the time to think about the message I am trying to get across.

In all my years of teaching, I have come across so many children from different backgrounds, cultures, etc.  Each year I think I have met children from all walks of life and then it is quickly brought to my attention that I haven't seen it all.  Some of what I have been exposed to makes me laugh, sometimes I cry.  I must say that I thank God  on a daily basis for blessing me with my parents.  They took a vested interest in my education and gave me all of the attention I needed.  Education is important to me because of the values they have instilled in me.  They always made sure I knew that what was in my head could never be taken away from me.  I try to pass that on to my own son.  Although he is only six years old and doesn't completely understand the value of education and the interest I take in the most minute detail of his life, I pray he grows to understand and appreciate it.  And of course I pray that he passes it on to his own family when the time comes.

Today's post is inspired by one of the little girls in my class.  The children in my class are taking a 3-part benchmark assessment this week.  While they are testing, I do have a little time to think.  That's very rare in the hustle and bustle of my day.  I barely have time to eat lunch and use the bathroom (think 1 prep a day and a 30 minute lunch period...it is he** sometimes, but we make it work)!  My thoughts traveled to her and stayed on her for a good part of my day.

This little girl craves attention, like a pregnant woman craves food.  This little girl got up about 5 or 6 times during the assessment to tell me that she had completed the sections.  Then she made it a point to raise her hand and tell me that the boy next to her had passed gas (or farted, as she stated).  A child bumped into her today.  The child apologized (I even heard them apologize) and she still came to inform me that she was pushed.  After she completed her assessment, she took a book out to read.  She felt that it was very important to let me know that the book was about mice.  I didn't ask what the book was about.  I just asked that she take something out to read independently while she waited for the timer to go off.  Now I must remind you that this only happened today.  She does this on a daily basis!  Today I almost lost it!  However, I had to take a deep breath and think happy thoughts.  After she went back to her seat, I thought long and hard about her situation and realized that she only does this because she craves the attention at home.  She doesn't get any at home, so she has to do her best to get it from somewhere.  It's a sad situation and I have to continue to remind myself that she can't help it.  She's only 7.

When I think about this child's future, I'm a tad bit afraid for what may be in store for her if she doesn't get the attention she needs and the means she will go through to get it.  I just hope and pray that everything works out fine.

I hope that you all understand that the slightest gesture means so much to a child.  You may think something as small as acknowledging them when they say "Good Morning" is not a big deal.  Remember it means a lot to that child.  I hope that I reached a couple of you out there today and that my post had a positive effect on you.

Avatar: The Last Airbender, Your Mother's a Liar, and I Don't Have A Pencil - Part II

I have so much to get off my chest, that my posts came in two parts.  If you keep up with my blog, then you have probably already read the post about "Sammich Boy and His Mommy".  I'm just getting over the ordeal with him and his mother, so I was not ready for what I would encounter today.

Those of you who have young children, especially boys, may be familiar with a show called Avatar: The Last Airbender.  I'm not sure what the show is about.  I do know that it's a cartoon and I believe a movie came out (not the one with the tall blue people).  The main character on the show is a bald boy who has some type of mohawk going.  It's not your customary mohawk though.  This mohawk comes to a point at the front of his head and is shaped like an arrow.  Quite a few of the boys in my class are crazy about the show, especially one in particular.  He actually wants to be called Avatar: The Last Airbender.  My partner teacher and I walk down to pick up our kids and Avatar: The Last Airbender greeted us.  This little boy's parents shaved the sides of his head and gave him a mohawk that was shaped like an arrow!  

I know our children need to develop their own identities and personalities.  We also have to give them the opportunity to express themselves.  However I truly believe that no matter how much our children may ask for certain things, sometimes you just have to say, "HELL TO THE NO!"

I'll include a picture of Avatar so you may have a very good idea of what I was looking at today.

Here is the last of the things I need to get off my chest.  This morning, I decided to give my class the Reading benchmark assessment.  I gave the children instructions on the assessment and what to do if they were done before time was up.  After time was up, there were two children in my class who were not even close to being done.  I found that quite odd, because I gave them more than enough time to complete the assessment.  I proceeded to make the mistake of asking why it was taking so long.  The first child responds by saying, "I don't have a pencil."  Well, at this point my blood is starting to boil and I'm trying to figure out why this kid waited so long to tell me that he did not have a pencil.  I look through his test and realize that he has answered at least half of the questions.  So, I go out on a limb (I knew I would want to throw myself into rush hour traffic after hearing their explanation.) and ask why half of the test is already completed.  

The both of them look at me with that blank stare and say, "Well, we were sharing a pencil."  At this point I lose control and ask, "Why would you share a pencil?!?!?!?!  That wasn't smart!"  I had to go stand in a corner and "WWWWWOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAA!" before I gained the mental capacity to go an speak with these young gentlemen.  Eventually I got it together.  Although I am starting to get angry just blogging about the incident.

I hope that after reading my two entries, you now understand my pain and why I am tempted to run into rush hour traffic on any given day.  Hope you enjoyed my entries and see you soon!

Avatar: The Last Airbender and his famous haircut

Avatar: The Last Airbender, Your Mother's a Liar, and I Don't Have A Pencil

Instead of making lunches and getting clothes ready for the next day, I am sitting in front of my laptop blogging about some things I've been dying to get off my chest.  I don't even know where to begin.  Hmmmm...let's see.

Last week my partner teacher and I were called into the principal's office to conference with a parent.  When I walk into the office, the parent is already there and she does not look pleased.  It was still early in the morning and although I was physically awake, mentally I was still in my bed.  So of course, I was oblivious to the body language and shade that was being thrown my way.  We begin the meeting by discussing the child's progress in my class.  While all of this is taking place, I'm looking across the table at my partner teacher still trying to figure out why this impromptu meeting was so imperative.  

Finally, we get to the real issue at hand.  The principal informed me that the parent was there to address a concern.  Apparently, I called her a liar in front of her son.  I said it to my partner teacher in the hallway.  It happened on two occasions and the best part was I had absolutely no idea what this parent was talking about!  Well...perhaps the best part was when the parent "got her Shaneeqwa on" by crossing her legs and looking at me like she wanted to fight.  Inside I was laughing hysterically, on the outside my face continued to say, "WTF is going on here?!?!?!"

Since it was evident that my partner teacher and I had no idea what they were talking about, the principal called the child in.  He walks into the office and welcomes us with his personal air freshener (smelling like a #1 sandwich at the deli...EXTRA ONIONS!)!  I was so distracted by the odor and burning and watering of my eyes, that I could barely continue the conference!  The principal proceeds to ask this young man about what I said and he burst into tears.  Then he decides to hide behind his mom and refused to tell the story.  I don't know about anyone else, but it seems that someone is telling a story.  

The crazy part of the story is his mother "got her Shaneeqwa on" for about 5-10 minutes.  Before I knew it, she was thanking me for being so patient with her son and for all the hard work I do to ensure his success.  At this point, I'm looking at her and saying to myself, "Is she for real?!?!?! Or am I in some alternate universe?"  I'm still trying to figure out what that conference was about.