Flavor of the Day: Bike Rack!

It never fails. We all have done this at some point and time in our lives. No matter how high or low our IQ is, we all have done it or at least attempted to do it. Everyone knows what will happen when we do it, SO WHY DO WE DO IT! Either way, we do it knowing we will have to suffer the painful consequences for days to come. Why do we, as children . . . and some adults I guess, insist on wanting to lick a piece of metal that has been setting outside in sub-zero temperatures. Why?


Remember Trent? Yes, the one with the lateral lisp that got kicked in the "Frontal Privatesh". This was perhaps his low point of my time with him (or high point I guess). Friday mornings, I was on morning recess supervision with two other teachers. The first couple of Fridays were nice and warm but then this bitter cold winter of 2007-2008 took hold and unless the temperatures were below zero, recess was to be held outside. This day in particular was our first frigid day. I remember it so well because I did not dress that appropriately. It was so cold I thought recess would be held inside for sure. Recess was not held inside and I had to go stand out in the cold, like a penquin huddled up with the whole flock (students) around me. All of a sudden I heard that oh so familiar voice yelling excitedly "Mishter Shturgish, Mishter Shturgish". Without having to look, I could tell it was Trent by that lisp. He came running up to me fighting his way through the sea of students with an excitement on his face that is only seen in a young boy who perhaps just caught his first fish. Once arriving at my feet, Trent said, "Mishter Shturgish, look what I did!"

Trent opened his chubby mouth to reveal a blood soaked tongue with teeth almost stained with that same blood red color. He was so excited that he kept smiling as to showing off his pearly reds. I immediatly asked, "What did you do Trent?"

"I Shtuck my tongue to the bike rack". His lisp was now four times worse because of the fact that the front half of his tongue's skin was missing.

Being the novice teacher that I am, I immediately wanted to find out who made him do this so I asked "what, why did you do this?"

His reply was simple and unexplainable. He simply said "Nobody made me do it, I just wanted to". (That sentence right there, completely sums up Trent into nine words.) He then bragged "But mine ish not even sthat bad. . .you sshould see Jacob'sh mousth". Jacob did not even have to open his mouth as the blood was already crusted, or frozen for that matter, all around his mouth and down his chin. These two must have been long lost brothers because as I looked over at Jacob, he gave me that same, blood soaked smile, as if to say "That's amazing, my tongue really does freeze to the metal!"

The ironic piece of the story is that for the next week and a half, Trent could not attend his Speech Therapy classes due to his "recess injury".

*Just a side note, this incident led me to the filling out of my first ever "Eau Claire School District Incident Report Sheet".

Poo Poo in the Pee Pee!

While at my elementary placement, I would wait for my classes to arrive while standing out in the hall. This way I could not only see and monitor down two long hallways, I could also greet my class with a friendly face and high five. This elementary school has, as im sure many elementary schools have, what I like to call and "open range" bathroom. This is where there are no doors leading into the bathroom, only corners to block any viewing. The sinks are also located outside the bathroom to prevent any unnecessary animosity. The boys sink was hidden around a small corner just enough to where I could not see the entire sink when I was standing at my greeting perch just outside the gymnasium.

One day, I saw one of my favorite elementary students standing at the sink washing his hands and jumping around like he just rode the ferris wheel at the fair for the first time. He was always like this though. Lets call him Jake. Jake was one of my Kindergarten Specially Designed Phy. Ed. students. The kid was so quirky that it made him one of the sweetest little boys. The things he would say were so obscure and random that he could confuse a lawyer with his antics. He would do such things like standing up in the middle of a dance lesson and saying "Mr. S, I hate bees on my face" (keep in mind this was the middle of January) then sit back down and listen as if nothing happened. That was Jake, and it always brought a smile to my face when I saw his big smile everyday. As I saw him washing his hands and dancing at the sink, I asked him, "Jake, why are you so happy?"
He responded with an exuberant "Mr. S. I went poo poo in the pee pee!"
I immediately asked without hesitation, "you did what?"
By this time I had already lost him and he began to sing to himself while drying his hands. The song sounded like something he probably was making up as he went.
Curious to know what was going on, just in case something "bad" happend, I took a couple steps towards the bathroom to follow him back to the room. Remember the sink is around a corner so I was unable to see the teacher's aid standing at the sink helping Jake wash up. She poked her head around the corner right behind Jake and said with a horrified face "Yeah, He just took a dump in the urinal".
By this time, Jake was 15 feet down the hallway and about to re-enter his room. Having heard the aid tell me about his apparent trophy, he turned around with a hand on the doorknob, his signature smile on his face and exclaimed for all to hear "And now I'm gonna watch a movie!" He then opened the door and gleefully pranced back into his room to. . .yes, finish watching the movie.

Kicked in the WHAT?

*this particular story takes place within my first week of student teaching at the elementary level.

While teaching tag game to a second grade class, a student ran up to me with pain in his eyes. You could tell that he was in pain but he was not crying. . .rather impressive for a 2nd grader. Now before I go on, I have to describe his voice in order to get the effect of the whole story. This student had a lateral lisp. For those of you who may not know specifically what that is, it is the kind of lisp where the air escapes from the sides of the tongue while talking creating sloppy /S/ and /Z/ sounds (or that sloppy wet sound). I will be spelling this student's spoken words as they sound so please to read as spelled. So he came running up to me in pain and said "Mishter Shturgish. Jacob just kicked me in the ballsh". Trying not to bust out in an full blown laugh, I politely smiled and replied "Trent, lets try to use better words. What should you say instead of balls?"
He began to get uneasy. He started to mutter something but I could not understand him. You could tell he was really trying to think of a more appropriate word to use instead of "balls" but was having difficulty finding it. Keep in mind that this entire time he is crossing his legs while holding his "balls" and dancing around in pain as if he was in some Richard Simmons exercise video. Finally you could see the light bulb go on and the words almost jumped out of his head.
"Mishter Shturgish. He kicked me right in the FRONTAL PRIVATESH. . .yeah right here" pointing to his crotch as if I did not know where these "frontal privates" were. After sitting out of the game for a lame 2 minutes, Trent returned into the game and the incident had entirely left his mind within minutes.

Now, not only have I discovered a new way to say balls, I have also become an expert in the traslation of the lateral lisp as I do have a few more stories to share in near future dealing with this same student.

Sole vs. Spirit

In my first placement of student teaching (in physical education) this past fall, I was teaching a soccer unit to the 5th and 6th graders. One of my objectives that would get questioned on the test was for the students to be able to identify all parts of the foot used in dribbling a soccer ball. I hammer HEEL, TOE, INSIDE, OUTSIDE, TOP and BOTTOM into their head on a daily basis. By the end of the unit, I was able to ask every student to name the parts of the foot and they were able to sound them off like a well trained army corps.
Now I am not a big fan of paper and pencil tests, especially in the Physical Education setting but seeing as though these students had already been accustom to this style of formal assessment, I figured I would give it a whirl and "administer" a paper and pencil test to see if these students really met my objectives. Test day came and as expected, there were a few questions clarifications that needed to be answered. Then came that daunting yet amusing task of grading. I was anxious to see how smart my students were. . .or in reality, how effective my own physical educating skills were.
My major underestimation was not only the ability to spell, but the ability to write in clear handwriting. Why I expected more, I don't know, seeing as though I have a hard time reading my own handwriting. I was constantly asking my cooperating teacher (CT) for help in deciphering words. It seemed as though he had taken Chicken Scratches 101, the introductory course at UWEC that I apparently was not notified about. He seemed to be able to look at the sad attempt at a word and decipher it withing a fraction of a second.
There was one test that neither one of us could figure out what a word was. The question was to "Name 4 of the 6 parts of your food used when you dribble a soccer ball". It was rather suprising because this particular student usually had great penmenship and never had issues with learning anything. It seemed as though she made up a new word. Out of a couple hundred students, only a couple had actually missed this question only due to perhaps that dreaded test anxiety. After taking the test down to the english teacher for some further expert deciphering, she notified me that the word said "Spirit". Now I was completely baffled, as was my CT. Finally I decided to just ask the student in hopes that I did not offend her in any way. After school, I went to her locker bay and pulled her aside. Again, she was a bright girl whos popularity and blonde hair won over many pre-pubescent crushes. She looked at me in a rather frustrated way and said "duh Mr. S., that says spirit, yeah, like, as in Soul." I immediately busted out a short burst of a laugh only to correct myself and appologize for "not being able to pick up on that". Only then did I realize that she was smart enough to realize that the BOTTOM of the foot was the sole and she clearly had heard the bottom of a foot be called a sole before but never really knew the differenct between a SOUL and a SOLE! Now, everytime I hear the word spirit, I think of the bottom of my foot. . .or perhaps the next time I hear the bottom of my foot, I will think of my spirit.