Sub Notes

     I don't sub too often anymore. Cara and I are busy enough with work and baby and playstation. Willamette high school was having three math teachers out last Friday and needed an advanced math sub, so I acquiesced. (big word!) A few notes from my recent subbing adventures:

     - I had a conversation with a student that I wish I could have with every student. He doesn't like math - and my guess is he doesn't like school. He said to another student "It's not like the world will end if I fail a math class."
     I was helping another student at this time, but luckily it's part of my job to eavesdrop. I turned around, looked at him, and said "You're right. The world won't end. But the world won't end if you study and pay attention in class either."
     Him: Why? What's the point of learning math? (I love this question).
     Me: What do you want to do when you grow up?
     Him: I don't know.
     Me: Exactly. You don't know what you want to do. So, we teach you everything. That way, when you do start to decide what you want to do, you have options.
     Him: But, what if I just want to work on a boat?
     Me: Great! Go join the Navy and work on a boat.
     Him: (he didn't like this idea) No, I mean like, some old fishing boat.
     Me: Great! If you want to work on an old fishing boat, go for it. But, my guess is you have never actually worked on a boat. What if you do it, and then find out that it's not what you want to do? What if you decide you would really like to design boats or build boats or do something entirely different. Wouldn't it be wise for you to not limit your options now? So that if you want to do something that's hard, or that everyone wants to do, like design video games, you are educated and equipped? You might not care about making a lot of money, and that's fine, but money is very nice to have. It's very nice to be able to take care of yourself and, maybe one day, your wife and family. Well, the best way to make money is with an education, and more specifically with and education in math and science. You're right: the world's not going to end if you fail this math class. But you might end up regretting it later on.
     Him: Huh.

     I don't know if I made any sort of difference in his life or future, but let's pretend like I did, okay? The other boy he was talking to was also paying pretty close attention, so maybe I got a 2-for-1 there.

     - The school wanted me to arrive around 7:30, for classes that start at 8:00. That's no problem. However, the school was on a block schedule and I didn't have a first period, so I didn't start teaching until 9:45. That's over two hours of me sitting by myself in an empty classroom!! Super frustrating. I took my Kindle and Ipod but was still painfully bored. Additionally, their wi-fi was password protected. So I started guessing. Willamette high school is in the Bethel school district, so I guessed variations on "Bethel," "Bethel School District," "BethelSD," "WillametteHigh," "Password" and "Wolverine." A student later told me the password was "B3thel." Dang it!!

     - I sing and hum very often. Especially when I am in the room by myself. Back when I was teaching high school, It was always weird for my TA's, or students that were taking tests, when it would just be me and him or her in a room and I would start singing. I think it's even more weird for students that I am subbing for. I'll walk around handing out papers or checking work, humming whatever song I heard last. I am fine with being the weird-guy-that-likes-math, though.

     - I was just terribly bored while subbing. Students did worksheets, classes were 90 minutes long, I wasn't needed for anything. There was one point where I was spinning on the stool in the front of the room, trying to make myself dizzy. (No, really!) While spinning, I heard a conversation out in the hall. A student had stepped out to talk to a friend. A school employee of some sort - like a campus monitor - was interrupting their conversation. I hear him say "Would you be doing this if your teacher was here?" and promply stopped and looked up. He was giving me a quizzical look. I am a good sub.

The Chronicles of Rehab: Accidents

     I dislocated my shoulder while skiing three years ago (almost to the day). I never had surgery on the shoulder because I was cheap and I could live with it. It wasn't impacting my day to day life. This past August I tore my ACL. It immediately impacted my day to day life. I decided to operate on both, in the same insurance year, so that I could "buy one get one free" for surgeries and rehab. These experiences will likely dominate this blog for the foreseeable future.

     Note: This post contains some pretty graphic "toilet humor" that many of you may find offensive. I am going to use blunt and uncomfortable words like "pee," "urine," "apple juice" and "framsham" to describe bodily functions. I apologize for any issue this may cause you in your life.

This is how the adventure started.

     "You see, Grant's a fainter."

     There are few things more old-timey-embarassing than fainting. It's what you see overwhelmed housewives do on black-and-white tv shows when something shocking happens. Today, my dad explained to my wife that I am "a fainter."
     Today was my ACL surgery. We scheduled the surgery the day after I gave finals so that I would have almost two weeks to recover without work. Cara and Wyatt and I drove to the orthopedics center at 6:00am, braving ice and cold. I was admitted promptly, operated on smoothly, and sent home around 10:00 am. I am currently lying on the couch with a TV remote, wireless PS3 controller, laptop, DS and a copy of The Hobbit. I chose to leave the Wii in the bedroom so that when we go to bed I can play there too.
     Moments ago, I was lying on the bathroom floor looking at the ceiling, thinking to myself "Wow I am hungry."
     At about noon I really had to pee. I had to pee so bad it woke me from my nap. I told Cara, she got my crutches ready and helped me to my feet. I crutched to the toilet, centered myself, braced myself against a wall, and urinated. As I was peeing I felt a lot of relief. Then I felt weak. Then I realized I was going to faint and had one thought: "Don't hurt your knee." So I rotated, fell back against the wall, and took a nap.
     I woke up about a minute later. Cara was nervous and asking me questions. She was sure I had concussed. Apparently she saw me just as my eyes were rolling back into my head and I was losing consciousness. I was quickly able to reassure her that I was fine, that I remember my back hitting the wall and not my head, that I was very hungry, that I had drunk some apple juice I think, that I felt fine, and that everything was okay. She called my dad to come help me up, and just be around in general. She was very shook up.
     After she had relaxed a bit she was sitting on the toilet (not using it!!) and talking with me, trying to keep me awake just to be safe. She said "You know you peed your pants, right?" I knew my shirt was wet and assumed it was sweat. I did not know I had peed my pants.
     "Yeah, I know," was my reassuring reply. "Poop!!" I thought while lying on the bathroom floor, lying to my wife. "I haven't wet myself since the last time I was in a pool! And I haven't accidentally wet my self since 2008! I really wanted to make it a whole decade for once." (sorry, I guess I should have warned you that I used the word "poop" too).

Apparently Wyatt and I look identical after peeing on the floor: comfortable. (Picture NSFW)

     Dad arrived (after having gone to get some food. Seriously.) and nonchalantly told Cara "Grant's a fainter." You see, I have used to get "head rushes" all the time. Do you ever stand up fast - so fast that your vision fades away except a small circle, you feel dizzy and weak, and have a slight headache as everything goes back to normal. That's a head rush. I have had hundreds, most of them in high school (not when I was high).

     In college I went to see the dentist once (like, literally, I think I only went one time). They didn't give me any anesthetic or knock me out or anything, just numbed my mouth. I hadn't eaten all day (which happened quite often back then. Breakfast was a luxury.) When they finished doing whatever they were doing, they said "okay, you're good to go!" and I said "really?" I felt weak and like it was sudden. I got up, walked outside and got one of those head-rushes. This time, as it was happening I thought "Wow, this is a bad one!" Then I thought "Wow! I think I am going to faint!"
     Next thing I knew I heard two people walking up, a little girl and her mom. The daughter was very sweet and talkative. I heard her, without being able to distinguish any words, in the distance, and then thought "I am outside a dentist's office lying on my back, fainted (I still couldn't see at this point). She is going to be so nervous and hate the dentist."
     She said "Mommy he's sleeping!"
     Mommy said "No, um, honey, he's not."
     I started to sit up and look around and said "I'm fine, I'm fine, I think I fainted but I'm fine. The dentist is nice."
     The dentists and hygienists were mortified. They were very helpful and gave me some of their lunch. My mommy picked me up, bought me food and drove my home. I was fine.

     I guess now I am "a fainter." And a, I don't know, a "faint-pee-er."

     Funny conclusion: (at least I think it's funny) You know how I was more concerned about that little girl at the dentist than myself? Well, today while on the bathroom floor, I was also more concerned about Cara's than myself. She was actually in tears at some point. Apparently, when I was unconscious and relieving myself, my hand fell into a pool of urine. When I was conscious, I put my hand up to touch Cara's face or grab or hand and she - having seen the previous dip in the pool I took - was not very receptive.


Number of times I used italics in this post: 5
Number of times I used parentheses in this post: (11)
Number of pictures in this post: 2
Adam Sandler refrences in this post: none

Criticism

     "Can I just say, you can be a real ass."

     I haven't been the best teacher this term. I've noticed that my energy and patience are much lower than usual. I respond less frequently to emails. I am finishing my grading more slowly, and have made a lot more mistakes in grading (and while teaching) than I am comfortable with. This hasn't sat well with me, as the term has wore on, but I haven't really dealt with it either.
     The day I gave my first test in one of my classes, about three weeks ago now, I got a note from a student (which stated it was written on behalf of at least a couple of students). These students felt that I moved too quickly when teaching, and that I needed to give more time on the test I had them take. I considered their arguments (I feel that I often do move too quickly), but in that scenario there were extenuating circumstances.

     Today, however, I was approached in back-to-back classes. In my math 65 course, a student told me about how he was struggling. He was a very frank, honest and mature person. He told me he thought I was a fine teacher and that if I taught anything but math he'd be "all about" my class, but that he needs more hand-holding and coddling in math (his words). I get this from students a lot. I think all teachers of entry-level math do. Students come in with such a fear of the subject, and a history of frustration, that we are both losing the battle before class starts.
     He explained that he didn't find me approachable. That it took him a lot of nerve to talk to me after class. And that he didn't think he was the only one that felt that way. Okay.

     A couple of weeks ago, in another class, a student did very poorly on her test. She talked to me after I returned the graded tests and asked if she could retake it. I asked her why she thought she would do better the next time, and she told me she met with a tutor (after the test) and understands things better now. I told her she could re-work the test, and if she did improve I'd give her a retake. She didn't improve. I think she felt that I was being dismissive of her (which, in all honesty, at that point I was). I asked her what she was in school for, and she wants to be an elementary school teacher.
    About a week later I tried to talk with her again about her plans and her future. I was trying to get a read on the sort of help she needed, or if it was worth an investment of my time. (It's kind of hard to view someone as "worthy" of extra help, but it happens). She told me she was going to have to quit school after this term because of her baby that was coming soon.
     Well, today in her class I gave a quiz. She finished last, and as she finished she said, to no one in particular, "Math takes me a while, but I'm not stupid at math." I had made no suggestion of impatience or frustration that I was aware of, so I said "Oh yeah, I understand." She followed with "Can I just say, you can be a real ass."
     I wish I could say I was caught off guard.
     "I apologize, that's not my intention. Can you help me? I don't want to be an ass to you or anyone else, so can you tell me what I did that made you feel that way?"
     "When we had that conversation, you made me feel retarded."
     "I'm sorry, I would never try to make you feel retarded, and I don't think you are retarded. Which conversation was it? Was it the one about the test?"
     "No, the one after that."
     I assume she is referring to the one I described above, where I was trying to determine if I should be helping her more. I've run it through my mind several times, and I thought I was being understanding and genuine and showing concern. Apparently I was not coming across that way.

     In the span of about two hours, from two extremely different personalities and backgrounds, I had been told I was an unapproachable ass. Not the qualities of great teachers.

     I have been less approachable this term. I am a bit more - how do I say this - myself this term than I normally let myself be in front of the class. It's not like I am trying to be less approachable, but I am not putting forth the effort that I used to to make it clear that I am happy to help people and take any question. Like I said, I haven't been the best teacher this term. So I guess these two students have confirmed what I have been feeling for a while.
     But here's where I struggle: those tests that my students complained about? This class averages were 74% (good) and 80% (great!) - and I don't give easy tests. I have lots of students in all my classes that ask lots of questions. I crack jokes and they laugh, they crack jokes and I laugh. I am connecting with a strong majority of my students. That's a good thing. I used to work to connect with the others, and this term I am not. That's a problem.
   
     The term is now half over. Five weeks down, five to go. I am going to work at being more energetic, approachable, and not-assy. I think I can do better.

Winning The Lottery

     Cara comes home one day and asks: "Are we ever going to win the lottery?"
     I reply: "No."
     "Why not?"
     "Because we never buy lottery tickets."

     She had probably driven by the big lottery billboard on I-5 that haunts everyone that passes through Eugene. 40 million Megabucks and 200 million Powerball - I believe them's are the winnings at the moment. That's a combined fifteen zeros. I drive by the sign twice a week, typically, and always figure I might as well buy a ticket and see what happens.
     The thing is, I am an incredibly lucky person. I pretty much expect things to work out in my favor - all the time - because history has taught me that they will, regardless or the effort or skill I put forth. I am constantly winning tiny little lotteries.

     Today was another example of a little lottery I have won in life: the office mate lottery.
     I was hired at LCC (win!) at a time when their enrollment was soaring high. It still is, really, so the fact that I teach "part time" at the college doesn't really matter because there are so many classes for me to teach each term (win!). But it does mean that there is very little office space to go around. I learned that I would be sharing an office with two other people: a husband and wife named Don and Inga Cataldo.
     They are the best office mates in the United States of America.
     I walked in and they immediately started clearing space for me and offered me the computer in the office. Forever. They bring their laptops and don't need it. We're off to a good start. Inga is from Ukraine. She and Don got married ten years ago when she came to the states. She has a daughter my age back home. As soon as I walked in the door on that first day, she asks me my age and I told her 25. She says "That's my daughter's age." She asks me some questions about myself. After knowing me for perhaps 12 minutes she declares "You are like son to me." She will bring me food to the office and any errand she runs for her husband (which is pretty much every chore in the office: getting copies, picking up mail, heating up lunch) she will offer to do for me.
     This fall we had a math-department meeting before the term began. We went around and said our names and something about ourselves. In typical Russian-accent-cadence, Inga says "Hello I am Inga I am married to Don and share office with Grant. He is super-handsome." She then sits down.
   
     A week ago the three of us are in our office. It's a crowded little room, and each of us face a different wall. I was getting up to leave for class and said "Oh, um, would you guys like to have dinner with Cara and Wyatt and I sometime soon?" Inga bolted in her chair and looked at Don and I in flash as soon as the "din" in "dinner" was uttered. She says "Uhh, yes. Saturday. You have baby, so you bring baby and I'll make dinner at our house. What do you like?" I said "Everything." She excitedly goes about her work again and I head out the door. She calls out to me "Don't eat anything between now and then!"
     We had dinner with them tonight. Just a few hours ago. I cannot describe the feast she threw our way. It was absurdly delicious. It was incredibly huge. She made enough food for a dozen people, when only four of us were eating people food. She made three desserts, just to make sure she found one we liked.

     These are the leftovers she sent home with us, to give you some idea.

The box of scones at the top-left she bought off a
fundraiser but didn't want, so she gave them to me. Jackpot.

     Again, I'd like to stress the word leftover, as that easily makes an entire meal. There was at least four times as much food at dinner, and lots of dishes that weren't sent home. She actually forgot to bring out an entire dish, but was okay with that because she felt it was too dry anyways.
     I was cleaning the table at the end of the night and she says "We always have leftovers. I won't eat leftovers and I won't give them to Don. We have no dog so I just throw it away." I said "Inga you can feel free to treat me like your dog," and she lit up and said from now on she will bring leftovers to the office.

     All of this post has been about Inga, but Don is wonderful too. He and I spend a lot of time in the office together. We talk politics or sports or news or, best of all, nothing at all. He is in the office a lot because he and Inga work pretty separate hours, so one is usually waiting around for the other. So he'll play freecell on his Ipad or take a nap. It's very relieving to have an office mate who is comfortable taking a nap with you around, as I feel like I can do the same.

     I should probably play the lottery, because I bet I'd win it. I would pit my luck against anyone else's and probably come out looking good. I am thankful for this and hope that it never changes. For what it's worth, I truly believe that I have such wonderful fortune because I obey God and His commandments, but if you would like to explain it a different way that's fine.
     I am going to go fulfill my role as Inga's son/dog and go eat that leftover fish.

Found This Little Gem Today

While looking through my facebook timeline (yeah, I do that, so what?!), I came across this conversation I had with my brother, 5 years ago.

The scene: He's 16 living at home, I am 21 in college at my awful, crappy college house. This house had 7 people, 5 rooms, two showers, one toilet. It was a lot of fun but it was disgusting, in retrospect.

From facebook:

A conversation I had with my 16-year old brother online:

Him: Hey, do you guys need any toilet paper?

Me: Yeah, I guess so

Him: Okay
My car got tp'ed last night

Me: Oh, well, are we getting rolls?

Him: I think there is one roll

Me: Well we don't need just a big wad of toilet paper

Him: Yeah, it's a big wad
But, its 3-ply soft...
...
...
...
...
...
Me: Okay, yeah, bring it over and we'll check it out

Reconnecting With Old Flames

     I'm not sure how to go about interacting with previous girlfriends (or girls that I liked, or - much more common - girls that were in love with me). Today I came across three ladies that I used to be quite fond of.  Emily, Natalie, and Martie are their names, and we ran into each other in a garage - working on cars - of all places.

     You might know them as The Dixie Chicks.

     My fondness of The Dixie Chicks is more akin to stockholm syndrome than true affection. For my first two years of highschool, I spent nearly all of my time in the backseat of my older sister's car. She was invariably driving and giggling with her friend Lindsey, and they listened to a lot of those chicks from Dixie. I had no choice.
     I did not like them. They were girly and whiny and annoying. Incubus was just soooo much better. But, as it always happens, there was one song that on one day I found funny. That song where Earl has to die. (After rewatching that video, that's Jenna Maroney from 30Rock playing the, um, murderer!!)
     I would perk up when Goodbye Earl would play. Then I started to like Sin Wagon. Soon, I too felt readreadyreadyready ready to run, because all I was ready to do was have some fun. I don't know if I can name any other songs, but I bet if one came on I could sing along with it, and would enjoy it.

     So my poor friend and I are in his shop working on my car, which isn't starting everytime anymore. It also locks itself. Anyways, I am one the phone with the parts shop, looking for a solenoid coil to put in the starter. You know, man stuff. I'm talking with the guy at Knecht's (probably named Earl) and all of a sudden Wide Open Spaces comes on the radio (I can name that one too). I tell my friend, without thinking, "I love the Dixie Chicks," which I am sure the guy on the other end overheard. Nothing like manly car working while professing emotions for that early 2000's girls band.

     I would like to add that Ashley and Lindsey laughed about the dumbest stuff. They'd need gas and start laughing. Again?! We just bought gas yesterday!! They'd drive into a gas station, and say let's see if we can pay for a quarter of gas!? The gas-man would come up and they'd hand him a quarter, ask for regular, and do their patented spit-take laughs. When the guy gave them their gas, they'd drive off and say ohmygosh he thought we were so weird. Laughing all the way.
     I swear we spent like half an hour a day at gas stations. I'd offer to pay a few bucks just so I wouldn't learn the gas-man's names. I had a lot of fun with those girls, though. They'd let me ride with them to football games, and if it was an away game we'd get there by halftime (it's hard finding North Eugene). We'd pick up six thousand people to take to young life club. Sometimes a song they loved would come on and we'd jump out of the car and start dancing. I wouldn't trade those two years for three or four of those years, no sir.

     Other things-of-yore that I have rediscovered: 
     The tv show Scrubs. It is still great in its early seasons. My college roommates and I watched this show more than any other.
     Seeing things. I got glasses again. They are a bit crooked though. I always feel bad making those glasses people at the store try and fit my crooked ears over and over and over again, so I leave and say thanks. Unfortunately, I sprung for the super bendy frames, so I can't correct them myself. Also, they are transition lenses which are kind of embarrassing when I walk indoors on a sunny day.
     Video game music from when I was young. I think that one is self explanatory.
     Naps.

     Other things that could go into a list:
     Trampolines.
     Board games. I like playing them a lot, and luckily I have a lot of friends that do too. It's fun that there are lots of good games that aren't the boring "family" games that I grew up with. I hope I never have to play Sorry again.
     Minivans. Why on earth does my wife want a minivan for our one child? It's a bit early, right?
     Trucks. We need a truck!
     

Stuff That Happened To Me Today

     I subbed at the high school today for the first time in like two months.I've learned a couple of tricks in my last couple subbing adventures that I'd like to share with you.

     If the class has no homework assigned, I will lie to them. I should point out, I lie to students all the time. It's one of my main teaching strategies. I tell students I like them when I don't or that I don't like them when I do, or that their test is going to be hard when it's easy, or that I once hit a squirrel in the face with a rock. Things like that. Well, if the class doesn't have any homework, it's because they have a test that day. So I tell the students, "After you finish your test I'll put the homework on the board." When they all finish the test, I say, "You know, you worked real hard on that test and were a good class, so I am just not going to assign the homework. If your teacher has any issue with that, she can take it up with me."

     You should see the smiles on these kids' faces. They call me a hero and applaud me and give me high-fives and handshakes. It's wonderful.

     I wanted to feel that feeling more often. The feeling of being more-than-tolerated. So now, when classes do have homework, I lie. Say they are supposed to do problems 25 - 45 odd. I will write on the board "Page 312, problems 25 - 45 odd, 53 - 61 odd. Then, after a few moments, say, "no, that's too long," and erase the made-up stuff. They get much more confused and stressed, and aren't really relieved or proud of me at all, but I am still having fun. I think that's what matters most.

     I've always been kind of fascinated that I can just say stuff and people do it. Not even in teaching, but in life in general. I have a pathological addiction to lying, I think, kind of like the janitor. Everything written here is totally true, though.

     Another sub trick, although it is really more like a life trick, happens when reading names. I'll read, out loud, about 130 names a day when I sub, and I always feel bad for the kids that always have their names pronounced wrong. I've learned that you are much more likely to say a name right if you say it as fast as you possibly can. This works especially well with Asian names, if I am allowed to say that. Also, I will somewhat randomly alternate between first and last names, so that if a person has one name I am comfortable with I can say it and not look like I am singling anybody out. Still, I really butchered like 5 names today...

     I was walking Wyatt around the loop trying to get him to fall asleep. After a few laps, I burped, then he burped, then he farted and I farted before he was done farting. Then he peed.

     

The Five Stages of Housewifery

(Seen Through Facebook)

   I am a man and I work hard and have a job, but I imagine it's hard for a woman to stay home with the baby all day long. Women that sacrifice careers and self-fulfillment to raise a baby are heroes, which is better than being a heroine. Recently I experienced first-hand the struggles of being a housewife: The five stages of housewifery. The stages are well documented of course: excitement, fear, sharing, emptiness and other pursuits, exhaustion - all of them are ultimately cries for help, and they are common among stay-at-home moms, and need to be addressed. I recently experienced all six of the stages of housewifery in a very public manner: The Facebook. I've taken my housewife life and pulled it from the pages of The Facebook, then break it down below, trying to raise awareness for this important issue.

(In order to protect other people that commented on my The Facebook posts, pictures were copied and cropped. Please bear with the blurry, raw, startling images that follow. Also, all comments come in a third-person form to make it seem more real or something.)

Stage 1: Excitement

     As you can see, at around 12:00 noon at the start of this day, the housewife is excited to spend time with his baby. This is common and usually lasts for several weeks. Changing diapers is a joy. Every new look, smile and accomplishment is a treasure. Experiences are happening daily. It is truly a wonderful time that should be treasured. Still, it is plain to see in Grant that he has some fear setting in already (cluing us in to his accelerated rate of progression through these stages).

Stage 2: Fear

     It is natural for any new mother to question his ability to raise a child. There is a lot of pressure and a life is at stake. Additionally, this man is burdened by the legitimate fear that from a physical standpoint he might not be able to fully nurture his child. The fear stage tends to pass quickly, as the baby continues to grow and doesn't die. (What isn't shown here, due to the need for protecting other's privacy, is Grant later asks how to tell if a baby is full. He'll get there! Be patient!)

Stage 3: Sharing

 

     These are four of the pictures he added to The Facebook, each with increasingly worse captions (the one in the top right said "look what Santa left under the tree!" for crying out loud). It's natural for the housewife to want to share the cute, fun, memorable moments of his child's life, but he fails to realize that not everyone on his The Facebook feed cares. It becomes a bit much (and when he realizes he is overwhelming his friends, another solution is found, as we will see). This stage has no clear beginning or ending time, and can last FOREVER.

Stage 4: Emptiness and Other Pursuits

     How can the desperate housemom occupy his time? Facebook, feeding, cooking and cleaning aren't fulfilling. The man feels that there needs to be some real accomplishment in his personal life. He will become a "gardener," "chef," "photographer," (a natural extension from the "sharing" phase he may still be in), some sort of an interior or exterior designer. He might try to do some research or reading to keep the mind sharp. Maybe watch some documentaries to stay informed. Whatever it may be, his Other Pursuits culminate in a blog.

     The blog. This is the time when loved ones should become concerned. A truly worthwhile and important endeavor - raising a child - can be supplanted by a trivial, waste-of-time, never-going-to-profit, no-one-cares blog. It is a cry for help. "Please! Give me attention! Let me know I am loved for something more than storytime and milk! Why am I so alone!?" It is a sad and challenging time for all involved.

     Notice that middle post above, the blog that our hero (remember, that's inarguably better than "heroine") has started. He goes to the point of writing My Kid Is Special!! and posts incredibly embarassing pictures. He intends to continue updating this blog with the pathetic, depressing events of a housewife's life. Tragic.

Stage 5: Exhaustion

     The exhaustion phase is less obvious. Cracks start to show. Patience declines. Less effort is given to be polite, or to keep up appearances. He is just tired. A girls night out is a welcome break, but he feels guilty for leaving his son (and wants the world to know he's still a good, loved mom). He expresses his insecurities as a mother to the whole world. Maybe tomorrow will  be better? The hope he shows towards the end feels empty - as empty as taking up cross stitching. He's just flat tired.

     If you read through his posts quickly, you can see the decline of his temperament. He moves from happy, energetic and hopeful, to ultimately stressed, unhappy and probably on some sort of FBI lists. Usually this decline takes years and several children. Today it took ten hours. Truly an interesting case.

     Being a mom is a tough job. Again, I don't know that first hand, as I personally fulfill all of my manly duties as a manly husband. But I am trying to relate here. Those poor women. Do what you can to help any you might know. Heed their cries for help. A friend, a night out, a funny video with cats, anything. Be aware of the five stages of housewifery.

Stuff That Happened Today/Recently

     Remember earlier when I said I had a student who was a comedian, and he said he'd written some new jokes that have me in them? He told me that he's doing a show in March in Eugene (and several others around the NW) and that he has all new material, where I am mentioned by name. He's giving me two tickets and holy crap I'm excited. Stay tuned.

     Early in the term at Lane Community College, a student came in to my office hours for some help. After he was done and was walking out, he jokingly said "I'll be back often, you'll probably get sick of me." I chuckled and jokingly replied "yeah, I probably will."
     Fast forward eight weeks and he comes in to my office hours again and says "sorry to bother you, I know you don't like it when people see you in your office" all sheepishly. He took me seriously! He'd been afraid to come to my office all term! I felt awful. But I told him I was joking and that he had been joking and come on!! I'd feel really bad, except he hadn't come to class for like four weeks for various reasons. I guess I come on a little too strong. Another example of me coming on too strong:

     There was a girl at the high school staring at a the wall while I was teaching. There was a poster of the boy's soccer team on the wall. I don't think she was staring directly at the poster, but we had this conversation:
     "Maggie, is your boyfriend on the soccer team?"
     She looks up at me and is a bit confused. "No..."
     "Do you wish you had a boyfriend on the soccer team?"
     She's still confused. "No, why?"
     "Because you've been staring at that poster of the boy's soccer team for like 5 minutes, so I figured you must like one of them."
     She starts blushing and giggling a little "No..."
     "Okay, but if you had to date one of them, which one is it?"
     "No one," laughing pretty hard.
     "Come on, which one is the cutest? If I walk over to your desk will there be a name with a bunch of hearts drawn around it?"
     It went on for a bit longer.

     This happened last year. The girl in the conversation had just switched into my class. Like, a week before this happened, halfway through the year. She looked around at the rest of the class, wondering what was going on. Some students turned to her and said "he's like that, it happens to all of us." Luckily she was a confident girl and we get along great.

     Subbing is really easy the first time. You start class the moment the bell rings, glare at and speak sternly to the first kid that tries to talk over you, and pretend like your the boss for a period. But when you sub for a  teacher over and over the students get used to you, they figure out that you are all bark and no bite, they start to push their limits, and you don't know the classroom norms. Today I subbed for a class for like the 8th time this year, and they are on to me. They try to leave early, turn in late homework, sit with their friends and other sinister activities.
     I used to really enjoy subbing, because you don't have to grade papers, take work home, or see the same kids every day. But as soon as I got my job at LCC I couldn't stand subbing any more. It's so boring. BUT, I am happy to have the work and the opportunity to make more contacts, and I know I am a good math sub, which is hard to find.

I Am An Idiot.

     My beloved cousins up in Portland get together and make frozen burritos. Lots of them. I'd be exaggerating if I said they make thousands of them, but they certainly make hundreds. They brought some down to Eugene right after Wyatt was born (I like to pretend that I got the most out of all of the Eugene Gilchrists, due to my favored status, but I don't think it's true).  I've been taking a frozen burrito to work for lunch every day ever since. It's been a lifesaver and the burritos are delicious.

It's proof of my idiocy

     The burritos are individually wrapped in wax paper and are filled with chicken, pork, or beef.
     The kitchen where I am working this fall is pretty bare. No plates or napkins (no sink to wash them), no silverware, no cups and no faucet. There is a fridge, freezer, microwave and coffee maker. So, I microwave the burrito on top of its wax paper. Usually I do this for about three and a half minutes. Sometimes the wax paper gets stuck to the burrito a bit but I can live with it.
     Today, eating THE LAST burrito that I was given, I microwaved it for about four and a half minutes for some reason. That's a long time. When I picked up my wax paper, the burrito fell through it, making a big hole in the middle. Again, for some reason, I didn't think much of this and took it into my office. I looked at the bottom of it. It was kind of slimy, but almost in an appetizing way. I thought to myself, "is there any chance there is wax on this?"
     I took a bite.
     I chewed for a few seconds.
     Something hard started crunching.
     I pulled out a bunch of hard wax from my mouth.
     I am an idiot.
     I took the burrito and ate into just the top of it, trying to avoid the wax, and made a mess.
     It still tasted like wax.
     I am an idiot.

Stuff That Happened To Me Today

     A student of mine at LCC went deer hunting and brought me back some venison steaks and a stew. Do I have to give him an A now? This is a quandary. It was very thoughtful of him to give me some meat without me prompting him at all. I guess, When he told me he was going to miss class because he was deer hunting, I said "if your freezers full you can always throw some venison my way," but it's not like I asked for some venison.
     More subtly, on the first day of classes I always begin by saying "My name is Grant Gilchrist, I've been teaching here for two years, and I can be bribed." As a government employee I feel like that's the right thing to do.

     I grabbed my frozen burrito and put it in the microwave for a few minutes, and went to my office to check facebook grade. When the microwave beeped that it was finished, I went back to the kitchen and checked the freezer again. My burrito wasn't there (venison still was, luckily). Where did it go?! Did someone seriously steal my frozen burrito? As I was freaking out I smelled it in the microwave and felt like an idiot.

     Did you know that a gallon's size was determined by the size of a goat's stomach? I really hope that's true because I've been telling my students that for years.

     I think I encountered my first brown recluse spider: the very poisonous spider that lives in the northwest and hides in dark, dank corners. I was moving a bag of pellets from a corner of the garage to the pellet stove, and I'm pretty sure that bag had been sitting there for a couple of years. When I picked it up, I thought "I bet there's a brown recluse under this thing. Sure enough!!! There, on the bottom side was a big, really dark spider with a huge butt (that must hold all of its deadly poison I am sure) that started moving around frantically. I ran with the bag into the house, threw it on the stove, and freaked out a little. I did my best to bury the spider underneath the pellets and hope it burns.
     I told all of my friends about my near-death encounter. Then I looked up brown recluses. Turns out they don't look like the thing I've had nightmares of, and don't tend to live up here. It definitely wasn't a recluse on my bag. I don't plan to tell my friends this.

     I was subbing at a high school and a kid just got up, went to the back of the room, sat on the counter and started talking on his phone. I wasn't teaching or anything, it was general work time, so it wasn't offensive or disrespectful. Usually if I see a kid texting, I write down my "phone number" on the board, and if they are asking their friends for help with math they can just text me. This makes them blush like crazy, and depending on the reaction I will start calling them "texter" and have texter work on the problem I was doing. It's lots of fun for everyone except maybe one person.
     Well, this was a new one for me (someone cavalierly on the phone in the back of the room). I grabbed my phone, held it up to my ear, and started talking on the phone right next to him. "Yeah, so I guess this is the place in the room where we just get on the phone and talk. No, there's not any more appropriate place to do this. Yeah, I know, right!?" Then I started basically repeating whatever he was saying on the phone into my phone.

Picture on my phone

     He turned to me, showed me his iphone picture and said "I'm talking to my dad." I showed him my phone with a picture of Wyatt on the desktop and said "I'm talking to my mom!!" He handed me the phone and said "no really."  He was talking to his dad. Not that it's any better. I handed back the phone and started yelling at people (on my phone) to buy low/sell high, move the inventory and stop mismanaging my funds. Things like this went on for a bit longer until I was bored. He outlasted me.

     When subbing, I try to not call of names for attendance if I can help it. It kind of halts the class, people start talking, and it reminds the class that I am not in charge. So if I have a seating chart, I just use it, and if not I take attendance at the end. I work really hard at saying people's names right on the first try. I usually read through the list once or twice to myself before I go live, and try to work through how I think names are pronounced.
     I was doing a great job. I called Juan Juan, Jesus "hey-suess" and Julia "who-leah." But her name was Julia Anderson. Julia with a J. And I'm an idiot.

Awful, Awful Math Problems

     I had a student approach me after class this week. He said there was a problem he was asked in a math class a long time ago that he'd never been able to solve, and it had stuck with him. It's a classic textbook problem:

     "You're at the zoo and look into the arctic exhibit. You see that there are 18 legs and 6 heads. How many polar bears and penguins are in the exhibit?"

     This is one of the dumbest possible problems. It's just so stupid. If you are looking in the exhibit, why wouldn't you just count the animals instead of their legs and heads? If you can see their heads, you can see what kind of animals they are! And why are the polar bears and penguins together in the first place? They live as far apart as possible on the earth. Not to mention that those polar bears might try to eat those penguins (we don't know, BECAUSE THEY DON'T LIVE WITH EACH OTHER). What a crappy zoo! Why am I at that zoo?! I hope I didn't pay to go to that zoo.

     If you were to give this problem to a young child, like an elementary school student, they would ask all of those questions I listed above. If you gave it to a high school student, they would sigh and try to get through the problem. At some point along the way those high school students were conditioned to accept these dumb parameters, where logic is thrown out so we can practice using logic. Is it any wonder a lot of students hate math? They are asked to pointless, not-remotely-applicable things like this all the time!!

    The problem is supposed to be solved like this:
     x = # of polar bears, y = # of penguins

     4x + 2y = 18    (equation for legs, 4 per bear and 2 per penguin)
     x + y = 6          (equation for heads, 1 per bear 1 per penguin, ideally)

     And then you solve using substitution or elimination/combination (there end up being 3 of each, who does that in a zoo?!).  Substitution and elimination are worth learning and practicing. This problem (and almost all the problems that come with this topic) are not worth doing. There aren't a lot of simple, entry level problems that use these ideas in mathematics. These ideas are useful in chemistry and city planning and other areas, but they are fairly complicated to start.

     This guy talks about how awful math problems and textbooks can be (his name is Dan Meyer and he teaches in Santa Cruz), and everything he says is legitimate. I am looking for problems in real life when I might potentially use systems of equations, but haven't found any. I'll work at it, and if you know of any, please send them my way. (grant.gilchrist@gmail.com)

Making a Difference

Sometimes I really feel like I am getting through to my students:

  When I asked him what time it was, he said "blue."

Stuff That Happened to Me Today: Building a Deck

     True story: A student of mine approached me at Lane Community College after class. She said "Grant, I have a question. I am building a deck and want to know how I can make sure to get a right angle when I am laying it out." I got excited, and asked her what we had to work with. She had the pile of wood from Jerry's, all cut and ready to go, a tape measure and a chalk line.

     Perfect. Absolutely perfect. This was the most validating thing that had ever happened to me in my math career. In geometry you do what's called "constructions," where all you have is a pencil, straight edge, and compass, and you need to make things and prove things and do things and things. It's fun and challenging and I will do it in my spare time (like, at a boring meeting, or when my wife is telling a story).

     I essentially had a compass and straight edge to make this right angle from a given side. Here's what I tried to explain:

Let's start with a picture I took of their house (well, I copied it off google maps)

Now let's focus on the pertinent part.

We want to make a right angle from point A upwards, and want to find the most accurate way to do that (note: not the easiest way, the most accurate way).

Along the same line as the side of the deck you have plotted, mark a point the same distance away from A on each side. (This is easiest shown with a circle)

Points X1 and X2 are the same distance from
A (6 feet) and lie on the same line as the deck

So we end up with

Having never remotely done this in real life, I can safely recommend using a distance of about 6 to 8 feet from A to X1 and X2.  Now we can use the points X1 and X2 to make a perpendicular to A. 

Whatever that distance from A to X1 is (let's say it's 6 feet), choose a substantially larger distance to measure. I'm going to use 10 feet to make the pictures work, but the longer the better (it really depends on how far out you want your deck to go, but we'll work with this). Draw two circles around X1 and X2, each with the same exact radius (10 feet in this case).

Points X1 and X2 are each the center of a circle with a radius of 10 feet.

You don't need to draw the entire circles, just trace enough to find the point where the two circles intersect above Point A.

Using your chalk line, mark the line from Point A to the intersection above Point A (let's call it Point I... for "interesting") and you have a perpendicular line! It's as accurate as you were.

Anywhere along that line you can put the other corner of your deck. Wasn't that fun!?

There are all kinds of tools and tricks construction workers use to make right angles that I will pretend to know, but given just a tape measure, chalk line and wood we can do it (truth be told, you don't even need the tape measure - a chalk line and a place to start is sufficient).

There are a couple of faster ways, from this point, to finish the rectangle. Maybe for another time.

Stuff That Happened To Me Today.

10/24/2011
     I thought the most interesting thing about my day would be that I was forced to use a chalkboard. Usually I have either whiteboards or a document camera and a projector, but today that doc cam wasn't in my room. I had two clean, green chalkboards (not blackboards) in the front and a few sticks of chalk.
     I was stressed out. I had never taught with chalk. I'd used it, but teaching forces me to concentrate on my handwriting, legible-ness and keeping my work level (as in flat). When I first started teaching I'd spend time practicing with whiteboards. I haven't logged those hours with a chalkboard yet, so I wasn't confident I could make my work look nice.
     The chalk was extremely screechy at first. I had to adjust the angle I held it at and... who'm I kidding, you don't care.
     Turns out, it was great! I like the "click click click" sound it makes when I write. I enjoy the fact that I don't get minor highs by standing to close to the board. I think my writing actually looked a lot better. I don't like having chalk on my fingers, but I felt like an old-timey professor. Now I want to get a tweed jacket and a library to put in my house, and debate enthymemes and policies.

     No, the most interesting thing was when a student of mine, at Lane Community College, told me he wrote some jokes about me. I knew before this conversation that he was a professional comedian, so I wasn't too offended. I choose to take this as flattery, and he said he'd record them and send them to me. What!? I can't wait, I am so excited. He asked if he could use my name and I told him if he didn't I'd fail him. I'm funny too!!
     Having a student in your class who is a comedian is interesting. He doesn't crack jokes at all and is really attentive, but I want him to be funny. I also want to try and be a little funnier myself, to just show how similar I am to this big black guy from North Carolina. Today someone said to him "that sounds pretty intense," and from across the room I was this close to shouting "like the circus fire?"

You know, because circus fires are intense.

I'm glad I restrained.


Other stuff: A student got back a test and on the test she had said 11 - 3 = 7. This isn't a big deal to me, it's a minor brain fart that happens all the time (kind of like real farts), and at least two other students had done the exact same thing (I'm a good teacher!!). What was interesting was how she had been looking at the problem for a few minutes and then said out loud, to me, while going over other test problems: "explain to me how eleven minus three isn't seven." I thought she was kidding and chuckled (she has a good sense of humor, meaning she laughs at all my jokes). Then I looked at her and saw she was serious, and said as kindly as I could "eleven minus three is eight. I'm sorry, I honestly thought you were kidding." She blushed, and we agreed from then on to pretend like she had been kidding all along.

I put off grading till the last minute and got it done like 12 seconds before class started. Procrastination at its finest.

I told a woman that, when teaching high school, I always assume that a student's parents are divorced unless I know otherwise. There have been a couple of times I have said "mom and dad," only to learn that it's just mom or just dad. I never liked putting my foot in my mouth like this. Of course, the woman I told this to was a divorced mom. Is that irony?

It's okay though, because a few minutes later she said "The one advice I would give to people is to not get married at 21," and then promptly said, "you weren't married at 21, were you?" Of course, I was. Is that irony? Does anyone know what irony is?

A guy passed me while biking to work. Then I passed him, then he passed me, then I passed him again, and then he passed me again. We weren't racing (at least I wasn't). It was just how we timed the lights and the traffic, and we were going in the same direction for a long time. I wish I knew Yellow Helmet McWhiteBeard a little better after spending so much time in his vicinity.