I Love My Flash Drive
This is one of the handiest little gadgets I’ve ever had. If you transfer files of ANY kind from one computer to another on a regular basis, you need one, too.
They’re cheap. What are you waiting for? And who needs jewels when you can wear a hard drive around your neck?
I keep all my tests, quizzes, worksheets, and grades on mine. With plenty of room for Mp3’s. Anything that’s on your home computer can be saved to the flash drive, and once stuff is on the flash drive, it can be called up on any computer, anywhere.
Most of my students have them; they store their essays, etc, on their flash drive and then print them out at school.
Sure, you can email stuff to yourself, but you don’t need to do that when you can just carry your file cabinet with you, on a string or chain around your neck.
They’re cheap now, too. At Fry’s you can get a full gig for under twenty bucks. At WalMart you can buy smaller ones for five bucks.
Some of them are practically miniscule, but I needed one that I could find on a messy desktop. They come in all colors now. You can put it on your keychain or wear it as a pendant or a bracelet charm.
I think everybody needs a flash drive.
We'll All Throw Together, When We Throwwwwww.
The latest Carnival of Education is up, over at History Is Elementary. Click on over there and get current on what educators and parents are thinking about and doing these days. Next week, maybe some of you could contribute something of your own! And well you should, too.
I’ve got class in an hour and I’m really, really tired, but I hardly think I’ll get up and walk out because I “can’t keep my eyes open.” Unlike the boy in my Monday afternoon class, who was in such a hurry to leave after the first break that he didn’t even ask if he could take the quiz first. Which is fine, because even if he had, he still wouldn’t be passing because he so seldom comes to class. It was the gall of the whole thing that sort of blew us all away. And that teacher (oh, she so mean) who fired her empty plastic Diet Coke bottle at the door, well, that was coincidental. It was empty and she was aiming for the wastebasket, but it was highly satisfactory to see it hit the door and bounce off. So, yeah, that student left early. I told him I’d try to be a little more interesting and he took that seriously and said it wouldn’t matter because he’d had a late night and just needed a nap RIGHT NOW. I don’t think I could have, or would have, ever just gotten up and walked out of a class for any reason but an emergency that involved gushes of blood or chest pains, and if my classmates were discussing sex biases in various societal levels, CARNivals, the historical origins of the word ‘fuck,’ and Shakespearian fragments (giggle) I think I would have stuck around for it and called an ambulance for myself later. He was supposed to be in my class yesterday, too, but he never made it at all for that one. As usual.
I’d had a late night, too, involving Belle and the electrical system in her car which just went completely OFF as she was driving down the road at midnight, and I was still on the road at 2 a.m., and 3, but I made it to class and managed to stay awake. But then maybe I’m just Supergirl grown up.
I was kidding: I’ll never grow up. But sometimes I put on a good front, and I think it’s high time this student learned to do that, too. But oh well. Life is full of choices. He is choosing to nap rather than go to class, and whatta you bet he’ll ask for extensions and privileges when it comes grade time. I’ll keep you posted.
I have a weakness for green seedless grapes. Somebody make me stop.
Also, I had never heard of a weather condition called “frozen fog advisory.” We’re having one as I type; I haven’t looked out the windows yet because I’m fundamentally lazy, but it doesn’t sound all that safe.
This semester, I’ve got the best schedule I’ve ever had. I thought last semester’s schedule was the best I’d ever had but it was just the practice best; this semester is the best. But when you love your job, absolutely LOVE your job, I supposed most any schedule would be the best schedule.
But this semester’s schedule is fantastic. Heck, I don’t even go to work on M and W until 1:30 p.m. Mmm, college.
Get these grapes away from me.
Looking more closely at the bowl, it might be too late.
I’m rambling, so I’ll stop, and go get ready for class now. I hope I can stay awake; I had a late night last night, too. Yawn. This guest presenter from the main campus had better be really good, because it’s his JOB to keep me awake. Right?
Nothing is my fault; it must all come from the OUTSIDE.
The Only Good Principal Is A. . . . well, actually, I don't know; I've never had a good principal.
Some of the ‘teacher blogs’ are humming tonight with talk of administrators, mostly negative, so I would like to take a moment to talk about some of the really good principals and superintendents I have worked with over the past 26 years.
I really would like to. Unfortunately, I can’t, because I have never had a good principal or superintendent.
Whoops, wait a minute, I take that back. I once had a good superintendent, but of course, in THIS town, he didn’t last long. He was pretty much set up, framed, and run out of town, because that’s, by golly, what we DO to non-political types who try to be impartial and treat everybody’s kid the same, around these parts.
Let’s see, when I first started teaching, in a little town south of here, I had a principal who came to me on opening night of “Harvey” and told me that one of the scenes had to go. He’d had the play on his desk for four months, and almost every day I asked him how he liked the play, did he have any suggestions, etc, and he always told me that everything was fine. And on opening night, he said we could not go on unless that scene was removed. I refused, because if you’ve ever worked with kids on a production like this, and had it all blocked out and memorized, etc, it’s just not practical to change it around a couple of hours before the curtain rises. He was furious with me, and I don’t think he ever forgave me for disgracing the school like that with a dark, subversive, alcohol-advocating show like “Harvey.” You know, the big white rabbit?
My second principal was a man who liked to wear deely-boppers almost daily, and who loved to get on the loudspeaker and say things like “Let’s be SPONTANEOUS today! Let’s have fourth period during seventh period, second period during eighth period, etc.” Never any warning, and it didn’t matter if you’d been counting on running off a test for eighth period during your third period prep. He also refused to admit that several of our 8th grade girls were pregnant, and absolutely would not allow any counseling, etc, because it wasn’t necessary because the girls were nice girls from good families and they WERE NOT PREGNANT. But they were. Oh, and he used to count ballots himself so he could stack the student council, awards nights, etc, with the children of important people.
Third, I had a principal who kept a Lazy-Boy recliner down in the janitor’s lounge in the boiler room, and every. single. afternoon. he went down there and took a two-three hour nap. He was also a pathological liar.
Fourth, after they demoted the Lazy Boy, a young principal was imported from outside the system (almost unheard of) and his main goal was to raise morale. He did this by putting us into the shithole, money-wise, but people smiled a little more than they used to. The week after he promised us, as a group, that he intended to stay at our school for many years, he was promoted and walked out without so much as a backward glance.
Fifth was a genuine nightmare. This was the principal who, daily, wore the green jacket with the rotted, faded underarms. Who kept his teeth in his back pocket, so that when he sat down, he bit himself on the butt. Whose tie was covered with many years’ worth of dried crusty food. Whenever he walked into the cafeteria, the sound of lunchboxes being slammed shut echoed all over the room, because he had the bad habit of helping himself to thises and thats from little kids’ lunchboxes as he walked up and down the aisles of the cafeteria. Who was SEEN, more than once, taking an ice cream cone from a child, licking it, and giving it back. Who brought a girl into his office, and told her to remove her offensive t-shirt right there in front of him. She refused, and he tried to punish her, and got sued. Who eventually went nuts.
Sixth was a man who was nothing but a used car salesman. A telemarketer. His only experience was in sales. He was very good with budgets, etc, but knew nothing whatsoever about kids. He, too, loved the wealthier families best.
Seventh was just weird. He had absolutely no crowd control, and he became angry at people who did. He once, microphone in hand, yelled to a bunch of kids “Don’t make me come up there and shit!” He meant ‘sit,’ I assume, but that’s not what he said. Most of his ineptitude was down in the office, and when he was demoted, the secretaries had a celebration.
Eighth should never have been given the position in the first place. He had three years’ experience, as a substitute elementary teacher, and knew nothing about older kids. He tried to treat our kids like elementary kids, and once you do that, you’ve lost them forever. He was a good ol’ boy, and all the male teachers got along jest fine with him, but the women teachers could do nothing right. He knew nothing about the internet and the sad and sorry truth was, he wasn’t smart enough to be a principal.
Ninth tried, she really did. But she was a firm believer in the rulebook and the handbook, and even when common sense dictated that something be overlooked, it never was, because if it was in the handbook, it was carved in stone. She often wore shorts to work, though she didn’t have the figure for it, and once, at an assembly, in front of the whole student body, she demonstrated what the handbook meant by “too short” by raising her shorts up to her crotch, thereby producing an entire gymnasium full of boys who vowed they would never marry. She and I managed to stay friends in spite of her stubbornness about rules and my disregard for them.
Tenth was an absolute idiot. I really don’t know how else to describe him. He was the last principal I worked for, and he was not competent to work with people. Not just in a school, ANYWHERE. No “people skills” whatsoever. No computer skills, either.
I won’t go into the superintendent thing tonight; but perhaps those on that other blog (and it’s one of my favorite blogs; it was a commenter who disagreed with me there) who think I’m making an ad hominem attack might understand why I do not trust principals unless they prove themselves competent, and they do that by supporting their teachers, using common sense, and refusing to buckle under parental pressure for exceptions. They don’t play favorites; they’re not ‘good ol’ boys;’ they’re smart; and they respect their teachers enough to leave them alone and let them teach. They handle discipline problems fairly and promptly, which does NOT mean sending the kid right back to the classroom, and if the misbehaving kid is the offspring of important people, or an athlete, that doesn’t make the least bit of difference.
A good principal is a person who is to be greatly feared by the rotten kids, because they KNOW he/she will give them exactly what they have earned, and greatly respected by the good kids, for that same reason. Good kids are not afraid of a good principal, but there is something in me that thinks that the bad kids should be.
As for the bad principals. . . . EVERYBODY should be afraid of them. That kind of power in those incompetent hands? Heaven help us.
I have seen good principals, but never in my school. I always envied the teachers in buildings with a good principal. Heck, I have former students who are principals now. I’ve never seen them in action but I bet they’re good.
My former school was kind of like the Principal’s Burying Grounds; we got everybody’s discards.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love my job now? More and more, daily. Especially when I come back from a walk down memory lane.
