unlimited tutoring

We tried meeting on weekdays, but it's tough. Sunday mornings work best, but even then, the unpredictability of life makes these morning tutoring sessions, at best, intermittent.

So I text the student:

- Do u hv unlimited txt?
- Y
- Do u hv web?
- Y
- R U mendacious?

There's a delay, a gap of time, and it passes by until eight minutes later:

- R U calling me a liar?
- Would U prefer b n sagacious?

I'm rolling a size-1 soccer ball to Quinn. She's just mastered sitting-up, and when the ball stops between her legs, she leans over, picks it up, and treats it like a teether.

- Yeah, wise. That's me. Ms. 2400!

So now I tutor and the student responds at varying times. I'm not going to claim this is perfect; a substitute for face-to-face, pull out the Kaplan, Princeton Review, and College Board books. But when our lives seem to pull us in every direction except the one that brings us together, this strategy keeps us cognizant of our task, and provides another way for students to learn and teachers to teach.

not the happy kind of hour

• He turns his papers in. Not on time, and never early. But when he’s good and ready, he is the master of ‘early entry printing’. He arrives three minutes before the bell, feigning assiduousness. He grabs a laptop, plugs in his flash drive, and is considerate enough to print on the ‘lowest quality’ setting. He never sees the blazing irony in any of this.

• He’s broke. Tough economy, scarce job market, but this student needs recreational spending money. The lesson on the Federal Reserve is over. Twelve dollars worth of one dollar bills sit on the teacher’s desk. Mrs. Teacher is collecting homework. And five days later, no one, absolutely no one admits to the crime or any awareness of it ever happening. No worries: our school is only one month in to the Olweus Bullying Prevention Program. It’s almost unfair of us to expect any student to do the right thing.

clearly, he's not a whig

If you're looking for a third party candidate, one with talents rivaling, and possibly surpassing those of most hockey moms, then you might want to give Zod your vote.


He'll reform Houston.

Thank you, major otis.

but don't let your teaching fall under 'random'

I link 'spontaneity' with other fanciful, fictionalized words like 'utopia' and 'normalcy'. As such, I took a calculated hyperlink over to Five Card Flickr Story thanks to the hyperlinking of Alan Levine.

Instructionally simple:
1. Pick one picture from a choice of five, watch the deck reshuffle, and then pick another until you have five photos.

2, Then, tell the story.
A BMX racer, lost. A confused crowd heads to the museum and airport, and ultimately, employs the racer's horse to hunt him down.

And there's probably some romance along the way.

Oh, and there's a delay at the airport. This adds to pot-boiling character development. And the consumption of empty carbs.

Any way to get kids to work on story-telling, right?

solutions needed, not a follow-up email

I don't think it's his remote. I tried two other remotes with the teacher's overhead projector and the remotes were either sluggish or entirely unresponsive in their delivery of on/off commands.

At one point, I pressed the 'power' button 17 times, from 12 different angles/trajectories. I am part compass, part protractor. Geometry with size 8 1/2 feet.

I tried all buttons, even the button that has the text 'please don't press this button as it is the psychological experiment revolving around explicit cautionary statements against one's innate curious desire to press buttons'. Nothing happened; although, in truth, I think an island somewhere in the South Pacific amazingly relocated to an as yet undisclosed location.

Tried the new batteries that your staff gave me in the other two remotes as well. I even ate one of the batteries, pressed incessantly against my right ear lobe, and hoped it might be able to communicate with the overhead projector. I have a deep cartilage contusion, like a botched ear-piercing procedure. My stomach hurts.

What else is a guy to do?

crushed with eyeliner

You'll never know Claire. She'll only let you tangle with her anger. If you're privy to anything else, you might get a word about her interest in graphic design. But she'll never, never show you her work.

Right now, Claire is in science class. She and her classmates are working on presentations for their study of the branches of biology. Claire's done her research. She's answered "the teacher's questions". She's recorded her finding on the assignment sheet. Claire heard the talk about PowerPoint reform, the Q&A about qualities of a good presentation, slides are cheap, treat them like they are on trial for their lives, and she's been directed to a handful of sites addressing slide design.

And she makes her first slide.


I inquire about her slide. I poke at her interest in art and graphic design. I'm direct about the expectations for slide design, and more importantly, presentation skills.

And she says:

This is how it's done. We get an assignment. We answer the questions. We write them down on a sheet. We type the answer in PowerPoint. We read them aloud. We sit down. And everyone gets B's

She's angry. That's her norm.
She's defying the front-loaded expectations, but she's in the wrong.
She citing precedent.

And she's right.

four dollars worth of perspective

So he had this pseudo-fit / obsessive thing going on the entire drive to The School House.

"We need to bring donuts!" over and over he exclaimed.

"But we neeeeeed to bring donuts!" he whined from North Wales to the Route 309 on-ramp.

And no matter how many ways, times, and styles I told him that donuts were provided, he would not relent.

So a box of 25 Munchkins accompanied us into The School House, me refusing to hold them, Mark more than happy to carry them, his cinnamon-coated trophies!

And Director Chris, why in all her years, she always sees something new.

The first time a student brought donuts for Daddy Donut Day.

"He's such a wonderful, thoughtful, special young boy," she says.

And I feel like an ass for fighting him on what turned out to be an exercise of altruism and selflessness!