Owned By a Girl, Part Deux

Girls are vicious. 

My cousin, Charlie, is getting ready to leave on his religious mission to Argentina for two years. He leaves December 12, and my wife and I don't fly back for Christmas until December 22, so we weren't going to see him for two years. He was able to get a flight out here, but, unfortunately, my wife and I weren't able to take days off to see him, so he came to school with us.

Charlie's a good-lookin' fella. Good genes, I suppose.

When we went to my wife's school after I picked him up from the airport, we walked into her classroom and, almost immediately, a girl in the back makes an "mmm, mmm" sound followed with a deep grunt, apparently vocalizing her approval of Charlie and his good looks.

The following day, he came into my school to visit. A few of the girls were eager to find out who he was and why he was in my classroom. After I introduced him, one of the girls, BC, said, in a swooning fashion, "Hi, Mr. Lowe's coooouuuussssinnn."

I was handing out papers and this conversation followed.

KH: "Mr. Lowe, which side of the family is he from? Yours or your wife's?"

Me: "Mine. Our moms are sisters."

KH, very incredulously: "Really? Are you sure?"

Me: "Yeah, I'm pretty sure. I've known him all our lives."

KH: "Hmm.....then where did his good looks come from?"

OWNED BY A GIRL, PART DEUX.

I responded by saying, "That's not something you really want to say to the person who has your grade in his hands? Things can change pretty quick."

My response didn't make me feel any better...

Owned by a girl, part deux. 

Exploding Pens and Cooking Bacon

Yesterday, I wasn't having a whole lot of luck with my 6th period class; they've been a bit unruly these past couple weeks and I've had to lay down the law more than a few times. I had already threatened to take away the group activity I had planned if they caused any more problems.

As I was explaining the purposes of persuasive text, everyone in the back corner of the room busts up laughing. I, very irritated, ask, "What's so funny that you're disrupting me?" I was expecting them to get the usual guilty faces, stop laughing and move on, but instead they just all pointed at SC.

I look over at SC and he has bright blue lips and is looking at me like a deer in the headlights. I realize that his pen just broke in his hand because he had ink all over; he asks me very calmly if he can go to the restroom and all I can do is laugh. So, naturally, I pull out my phone to document the event, but then I realize the pen didn't explode in his hand, it exploded in his mouth and he spit it out into his hand.

The result:

                                                                                                                        Photo: Trent Lowe Utah

I thought my SC adventure was over, but today, as I was grading their tests, I came across his and started laughing when I was grading it, prompting weird looks from some of my students.

                                                                                                                Photo: Trent Lowe Utah

(I couldn't figure out how to rotate the picture, whoops)

They were supposed to use the word "ingenuity" correctly in a sentence. His response:

"I'm cooking eggs and bacon on an engine block, now that's redneck ingenuity."

SC, you have proven ingenious with both pens and words, my friend.

Not-So-Scary Scary Stories

At the strongly-worded request of Chris Morgan, I will be updating this blog a little more often in order to please the masses.

The last couple of weeks, we have been working on detailed descriptions and creative writing, so on Halloween, I decided to culminate all of our work into a spooky storytelling session. I darkened my room, played creepy music and posted creepy images on my projector. We then proceeded to tell scary stories, some true, some not so true.

There were lots of stories that were pretty good, but then JC began telling her stories.

I have a fraternity brother named Sean Tillery who is, quite possibly, the worst story-teller of all time. A sampling: "One time, I was camping and I was sitting in a chair. I looked up, and there were two trees, but the sun was in between them."

That's it, that's his whole story. Well, Sean, you've got stiff competition for that title.

J: "Once upon a time, there was a lady named Mary, no, Crazy Mary, no, Bloody Mary. And she killed people and then she looked in the mirror and died. The end."

The end? Everyone busted up laughing. It wouldn't have been as funny if she wasn't really smart the rest of the time. This is the girl who usually gets really high scores in my class, so for her just to fall flat on the story cracked everybody up.

But then...she decided she needed an encore.

J: "Once, there was a man, and he killed his family and cut their heads off."

That's it? That's the whole thing?

Maybe we need to re-cover some concepts.

Tupac on Crack

As far as I feel I have come in my growing up process, there are often moments in my classroom that make me realize that I've still got some growing up to do.

Today, as my students were taking their quiz, I was walking around the room and saw one of the popular boys in the class with a sign taped to his back. I noticed one of his friends sitting near him about to pass out because he was laughing so hard and was holding it in.

I assumed he was the one who had put the sign on the kid's back. As I got close, I was able to read its message, which, is very far from the "Kick Me" signs of olden times, but hilarious nonetheless.

"I look like Tupac on crack."

As a teacher, I should have told him the sign was there and reprimanded the guilty boy.

As an immature 25-year-old, I should have laughed inside and not said anything.

For those three minutes, I chose to be an immature 25-year-old. Then my teacher kicked in and I alerted the kid about the sign.

I wonder what they would write on my sign? Dare I ask?

Third Time's A Charm!

........aaaaaaaaaaaaaand we're back!

After a long, beautiful, fantastic, glorious, incredible, stupendous, awesome, life-changing break from the kiddos, we started our new school year on August 9. Last year, as soon as I met my new students, I thought to myself, "I just want my students from last year back. These kids will never be as cool as them."

But they were just as cool. Actually, they were much cooler.

So this year, I had the exact same feeling, and I just have to keep telling myself that these kids are going to be the coolest yet. I think they're off to a good start. Last year, by the end of the second week of school, I could already tell who my jokers were and who was going to push back against EVERY SINGLE RULE, whether or not they actually agreed with it. For those who don't teach, sometimes kids will break rules that they agree with, just for the sake of breaking a rule. Baffles me.

Anyway, a highlight:

MF: "Mr. Lowe, how do I become the teacher's pet? Because I really wanna be the teacher's pet."
Me: "Why would you want to be the teacher's pet?"
MF, incredulously: "Why NOT? I get to take things down to the office. I get to take things to other teachers' classrooms. It's the best."
Me: "Well said. You don't do anything in particular, you just follow all the rules and participate until we really like you, and then it just happens."
MF: "Seriously, that's it? Done."

More, of course, to come.

Trent.

"Come at me, bro!"

While walking out of our promotion ceremony practice, this conversation occurred: EW: "Hey, M'Lowe, did they use to use slang back in the 1800s?" Me: "Yeah, of course they did, but it was way different from ours." EW: "Do you know any of their slang?" Me: "Yeaaahhhh.....no, why?" EW: "We do! In 2012, kids are like, 'Come at me, bro!' But in the 1800s, they were like, 'Come hither me, brethren!'"

Did Your Car Get Repossessed, Mr. Lowe?

Today, in an effort to get exercise and to shed many unwanted LBs, I decided to ride my bike to school. I would like to be able to do it all year, but unfortunately the sun doesn't quite rise as early as I would like it to, but there is now just enough light at 5:30am so I can head to work.

I love cycling and I do it all the time, anyway, but it's an incredible experience to be riding and see the sun come up from the horizon. It's a beautiful path from my house to my school - a little more than 14 miles - and so I don't mind it as much. When I get to school, there is no way I'm leaving my bike outside at the mercy of a pack of 6th, 7th and 8th graders, so I stash it in my room behind my desk. Of course, it's the very first thing the kids notice, so I always get the same question: Mr. Lowe, why is there a bike in here?

As my fourth class of the day came in, they all sat down and began their work. An interesting conversation followed -

TD: "Mr. Lowe, did you ride your bike to work today?"

Me: "Yep."

TD: "How far away do you stay?" (for all the Utahn readers, hat's Memphis for "How far away do you live?")

Me: "About 15 miles away."

TD: "You rode that far?!"

DB: "What? Did you get put out the house?"

Me: "Did I get put out of the house? By who? My wife?"

DB: "No, I meant, did someone repossess your car?"

Me: "Yeah....no, nobody repossessed my car."

DB: "Then why else would you ride your bike to school?"

Me: "For exercise. Don't worry, my car's still safely parked in my garage at my house."

DB (confused): "Oh..."

I definitely don't live anymore where I grew up. If my teacher had ridden his bike to school, I would have assumed he wanted to exercise. However, in Memphis, the first thought in this kid's head was that I couldn't pay my car bill, so it got repossessed and I had to ride my bike to work. Funny world.