First, a disclaimer (that will likely call into question the true level of my sanity): I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE seventh graders. They are generally my favorite grade. Early in my career I spent a year subbing while I did a lot of traveling and most of that year was spent at a seventh grade only building. It is a great age!
Now, the reality: Those of us who have been teaching for any length of time can attest to the fact that every so often a group of students comes along that is a special challenge. They seem to, as a group, be struggling with behavior, academics, social skills, or some combination of the three. There's no apparent rhyme or reason to it, it just is. Maybe someone should do an academic/medical study and try to find a connection...unusually strong solar flares the year the group was conceived or some such crazy explanation, but I digress. This year's group of seventh graders seems to be one of those special groups. I just have to share with you some of the actual conversations (I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried!) from my class this week (names have been removed to protect the innocent/guilty) as evidence of why I am already 3/4 of the way through a bottle of aspirin and we're only six weeks into the school year. Hopefully they will make you laugh...
The "Stolen" Backpack
Y comes into my room, 2 minutes late for first hour, with no homework, no pencil, and yelling at the top of his lungs: Someone stole my backpack!
Given the fact that he is late (despite riding a bus that dropped him off 30 minutes earlier so he could eat breakfast) and I'm attempting to teach, I tell him to stop yelling and sit down. After getting everyone started on their projects, taking attendance, and breathing deeply for several moments, I call Y over. "Where did you loose your backpack?"
"It got stolen at security, at that door thing we have to walk through and the box thing we have to put them through." (yes, our school has metal detectors and a bag scanner students must enter through)
"OK, let's go talk to security." The whole way down the hall I'm explaining to Y that when something happens he doesn't wander around the building for 30 minutes and then disrupt my class yelling about it. He needs to politely and calmly speak to the nearest teacher or staff member at the time it takes place. We get to security and there sits one lonely backpack and an annoyed officer.
Y: "That's my backpack!"
Officer: "I know. I heard you yelling it was stolen earlier. I tried to tell you it was right here, but you wouldn't listen. It was here the entire time. It was just upside down. Next time don't yell and scream, stop, listen, and look for it."
Walking back to my room we are stopped by another teacher. I tell Y to go to my room, go in, sit down, and do his project. I talk with the other teacher while watching him walk down the hall. He arrives at my door, turns his back to the wall, and stands with his hands folded in front of him, waiting for who knows what. I call out: "Y, what are you doing?" He shrugs. "Go in the room, sit down, do your work." He proceeds into the room and the other teacher asks if I'm sure he's a seventh grader and if I issue engraved invitations to all of my students.
The Name Question
"Miss, do I have to put my name on this?" I proceed to look at the child, the child looks at me, several seconds go by....
"Miss--" I hold up my hand and say, "I heard you, do I really need to answer that question for you?" I look at the child, the child looks at me, several seconds go by.....
"Miss, do I have to write my name on this?"
"Does it have the word name with a line after it at the top?" Child looks at paper, turns it around three times, and then replies "Yes."
"Then I think you should write your name on it." Child walks to desk, stares into space, becomes distracted by the paint on the wall, and five minutes later returns to put the paper in my hand---as I sit right next to our homework box that has a large sign saying: "Finished? Do NOT yell finished. Do NOT hand me your paper. Put it here." with a big red arrow. Deciding it's not worth it, I take the paper. As I'm putting it into the box I happen to look down and notice....his name is spelled incorrectly.
The Shelf
Class was scheduled to end soon so I asked the students to please put their books back on the shelf. One would expect that they would close the book, turn it, and slide it onto the shelf. Nope, not this group. They picked up the books (several still open) and tossed them on the shelf every which way and then yelled at me that there wasn't enough room on the shelf for all the books. By this time the bell has rung and my eighth and ninth graders are arriving for the next class. J (one of my ninth graders), walked in and said, "Miss you look really stressed." I just pointed to the messed up shelf and said, "I am a little tired. Could you please teach these seventh graders how to put a book on a shelf?" J then proceeded to line up four seventh graders and give them a step-by-step lesson on how to shelve books. It would have been a beautiful thing, except two minutes later, when I asked for last night's homework, J told me that he left his book in his locker and didn't have the assignment.
All I can say is, I do love my job, and at least it's never boring!