Category Archives: Meet the Students

Welcome to My House

16 Friday Dec 2016

Posted by in Meet the Students, Stuff I Want to Tell You About

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It’s my 15th year of teaching. Since the end of August I’ve been working with my new class — ages 13 and 14, remember (their minds blown by the magic and mayhem of middle school) and it’s been a lovely year so far.

But they are middle schoolers- that delightful mix of adult and child, villain and hero — both all at once, and neither, exactly. Alas, hilarity has ensued, as it does.

And it’s a good thing, too, because there are four days until holiday break and I’m holding fast to all my lines drawn in the sand.

“Mrs Hamlin, can I go the bathroom?”

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Middle school remains the craziest, kookiest, most tacos-with-your morning-coffee place.  But I’m saying: thank GOD. It’s keeping me on the edge of my seat, which is, therefore, keeping my mind off other stuff.

Here are three conversations that occurred recently in good ol’ room 68. I’m sorry there are only three because there are so many more and yet if I don’t write them down, they don’t stick in my brain. They are, however, gold, frankincense and myrrh — from me to you. Enjoy.

Student: “Mrs Hamlin do you know where you live?”

Me: (with a slight squint, because you never know if the question is real) Yes. I do know where I live. 

Student: That’s a good thing.

Me: (nodding slowly) It is.

Student, who never looks up from writing, says: In case you want to go home. Like, ever.

Me: (eyes wide) Right. Just in case. 

No one else even looks up from what they’re doing…

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Student: “Mrs. Hamlin do I have to write five paragraphs for this five paragraph essay?”

Me: blank stare

Student: “Just wondering if you’re serious about that.”

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Student: “Holy, Jesus.”

Me: Unless you’re praying, I don’t want to hear that language in here.

Student: “Totally praying! See?” (Starts doing a bizarre version of some choreographed dance, then singing, like Flo Rida) “Welcome to god’s house. Jesus take control now. You don’t need to bow down. You just have to go all out!”

Other student side-eyeing me, then says: “Let us pray.”

Yes. Yes. Very churchy this guy. Amen.

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So there you have it. Life in the 8th grade with never a dull moment. Welcome to my house. And Happy Holidays, ya’ll.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Home Stretch

30 Saturday Apr 2016

Posted by in Beauty in the Dishsoap, Meet the Students, Stuff I Want to Tell You About

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Seven weeks left in this 2015-2016 school year.  Seven weeks.  That’s like one week in … dog weeks?

I don’t know if I can accurately express just how insane that is.  Because I met this new group of students just yesterday.  They walked a bit hesitantly into my classroom, I shook their hands, learned their names, asked them about their hobbies and their families and their favorite books… And though some of them were a lot shorter then, it’s true, it just can’t possibly be real that they’re leaving me in about the lifespan of a worker honey bee. Which I suppose is apt – because that’s what I feel like most of the time and I’m guessing they do, too.

They’re practically out the door already: all limbs and long hair, half smiles and eyes full of questions.  How did that happen?  Time, the wise turtle, kept right on passing while I, the whirlwind hare, rushed around — silly hare. And here we are, May knocking on the door and coming to stay for a month.

I’ll tell you, and I’ll try not to sway into the melodramatic here, I am going to miss these young people — who are full grown people, some of them, but with still-growing minds and ever-changing preferences — all that beautiful, mixed-up adolescent swagger.  Thoughtful, observant, opinionated, curious people.  Who, by the way, are great stewards of the world, even now.

Is it possible that regular folks don’t know how attached teachers get to students during the ups, downs, tremendous growth spurts and equally tremendous upheavals that occur during a school year? Surely I’m not the only one who feels wistful come spring.

I may not have time seven weeks from now to write again about their imprint on my life this year; a year that was not – personally – as simple or smooth as I wish they all could be.  I would like to here thank them now, then, for their kindnesses and patience, for their adventurous spirits and their unending efforts.  To engage in life and learning — that’s the goal.  These kids have hit that goal and kept soaring.  To the moon, kiddos.  To the moon.

 

Things I Have Actually Said

17 Thursday Dec 2015

Posted by in Beauty in the Dishsoap, Meet the Students

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I find that there are basically two responses I get from people who learn for the first time that I’m a teacher of 8th grade students.  One:  they tell me it takes a “special person” to teach kids that age and that I’m basically going to heaven just for showing up.  Or two:  they tell me I’ve got the best job in the world, what with all that time off and all.

Neither are exactly correct.  But for the record I still love this work I do, even when it melts and stirs my brain.

In the past two weeks alone:

To an empty room and computer screen, when a colleague emailed for help covering her (combined with another grade and enormous) class, on the day after a schoolwide Project Day and four days before Christmas break:  “I just can’t.”

“Did you just ask Ethan if he thought you should put that in your mouth?” This, to a young man holding a plastic dreidl that had been used all day long.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t in the mood to listen to you.”  To a student who was telling me how hard it was to walk her dog around the block so her mother could change her clothes, finish making dinner and give her little brother a bath.

In response to this, for the 19th time this week – when is Christmas? – I said, “Mary Mother of God.  It’s the same day it has always been.  Maybe it changed this year, though, just to confuse us all.  Or because GLOBAL.  WARMING.”

Upon overhearing a boy in my class say I shot a moose with my bare hands!  I responded, “where do you keep your cape?”

It’s a fun thing these days to cram classmates in lockers, if they can fit.  Doesn’t that sound fun for everyone?  To a young man doing the shoving, and who will certainly be driving a car in the next 18 months, I said “people. locker. no. why. bad.”  

During directions for a class activity, a boy asked me if he could go to his locker for a piece of gum.  I responded “just ask the 8 ball on my desk and hope for the best.” 

In searching for a box of tissues I thought existed, I said to a classroom full:  “where are those, like, pieces of paper you put boogers in?”

To a student who needed help making a bow for a project:  “just make a loophole and your problems are solved.” 

To a colleague who reminded me I had lunchroom duty later in the day:  “Make me.”  

Folks, I’m tired in a lovely way.  I’m tired in the way you climb into bed at night and think just half a thought before drifting off – and that thought sounds something like this: life is beautiful and …