I have recently been encouraged to write more of my stupid stories by a friend and reader. So a few days ago I had my boys help me make a list of them. With their help, I came up with 67 different stories. They vary, some are funny, some are serious and some are just me being stupid and God protecting me. So... for a while, I will be writing these stories. I will still write about teaching and my students when something outstanding occurs.
Like Friday, I had a former student come by to visit me from the high school. He told me that he wished I was still his teacher. I asked how he was doing and he said he had a 98% in Geometry. He told me his teacher is always complaining that he shows too much work(I am a SHOW YOUR WORK NAZI). He explained to me that whenever he doesn't know what to do, he thinks back on what he learned in my class and is then able to figure it out. I had goose bumps listening to him. I praise God. I am only writing this to give God the glory ... NOT ME. I always tell my students that I want them to learn how to be successful this year but also in the years to follow. This student was telling me just that. I thanked him for his encouraging words and making the effort to come and share them with me. I was and am very humbled and grateful for his words. Encouragement is such a huge and powerful thing we can so easily do for someone else. I am thankful for my present and past students who have given me words of encouragement. I am also thankful for my readers who have also given me words of encouragement. THANK YOU.
Now for story time.
Today, I was outside chain sawing on a tree I fell a few months ago. This causes me to want to write about the time I cut down a fir tree in our back yard in Tacoma about 30 years ago.
It was Pam and my first house. The backyard was totally over grown. We decided to nuke it. I was going to take out all living vegetation except for one rhody. The biggest tree in the backyard was a fir tree in the back left corner. I estimated it to be about 80 ft tall. Boy was I off.
I climbed up the tree with some rope. I climbed up well over halfway and tied one end of the rope to the tree and threw down the rest of the rope and then I climbed back down. Then came the scary part.
I climbed up the tree with my chain saw tied onto a small piece of rope to myself. I estimated the halfway point of the tree and cut on both sides with my saw. This was scary because I had no climbing equipment, thus, I had to hold onto the tree with one hand and run the chain saw with the other. Chain saws require 2 hands to run, not one, especially half way up in a tree. But I somehow, by God's grace, I managed. I really don't know how. Then I quickly climbed down and I wanted to kiss the ground. I had such a sense of relief and thankfulness that it was over.
But it wasn't.
Next I tied another rope to the end of the rope I had tied way up on the tree. Then I pulled the rope across the yard kitty-corner to the railing on the back porch and tied it off nice and taunt. I was all set.
Just then, Pam came out the back door to tell me dinner was ready. It was perfect timing. I was so proud and confident of all my expert work and skilled estimating.
I was about three feet from the last step of the back porch. I reached up and grabbed a hold of the rope and exclaimed, "Watch this!" I gave a hard pull down and then to my shock and horror I froze like a deer in the headlights as I watched what then took place in slow motion as my adrenaline kicked in.
The top of the top half of the tree quickly hit the ground. The bottom of the top half of the tree was now on top and was about 60 feet up in the air and was coming my way like a giant cleaver. I couldn't move. It came crashing down directly at me with a violent thud and the bottom of the top of the tree hit the ground about 2 feet from me. It was about 18 inches in diameter.
I stood there in disbelief, shock and gratitude for a few seconds and then I turned and looked at Pam as causally as I could and said, "What do you think?" She just silently shook her head and went back inside the house.
The moral of the story is chain saws, ropes and felling trees is a recipe for disaster. Never get prideful when felling trees. Always seek God's grace, blessing, love, kindness, wisdom and forgiveness.
Day 112
Monday, March 31, 2014
Sunday, March 30, 2014
The Vanilla Fart Story
I lived in the dorms at UW for 3 years and ate dorm food. Dorm food was full of starches back then and a diet high in starches gave me gas... so, for 3 years of my life, I had gas. In fact, every night before bed time, my roommate and I would walk down our hallway, give a light knock on a neighbor's door, back up against it, fart, and say, "Good night." We would always hear the laughter from inside the room of our neighbors as we did this nightly ritual.
Well anyways, it was a Saturday morning, and I was on my way home for the weekend to see my parents. I was driving across the Narrows Bridge and the car filled with the smell of vanilla. I had no idea where it came from but I did enjoy the fragrance. I supposed I must have passed a bakery truck or something. Well, about 10 minutes later, I had a strong urge to fart. I was all alone in the car and so I tilted to the left(one simply doesn't not bare down and fart directly into the seat cushion!), bared down and released a nice arid fart. I was suddenly surprised as the car filled again with the smell of vanilla. It was wonderful. Then I realized, that that must have been me leaking 10 minutes earlier. I could not believe it! About 10 minutes later I had another urge. So I tilted, bared down and farted and the car filled once again with the lovely aroma of vanilla. I simply was amazing myself. I needed a witness. Then I remembered that mom was going to be home when I got there and a plan immediately came to mind.
The rest of the drive home I focused on restraining myself from farting. When I got home, I ran in the house and said, "Mom! You won't believe what happened on the way home. You have to smell..." It was at this point that I realized the flaw in my plan. How could I ask my mom to smell my next fart?
So I quickly improvised. I said, "You need to experience something." My confidence rose as I rescued myself from my predicament. My mom was in her recliner reading a book, so I walked over and sat on her lap.
I wanted to give her the full experience from the epicenter. I was going to leave no doubt. She was not happy with this maneuver of mine, however, and asked me to get off. I simply ignored her and asked her how she was doing and if she missed me.
I was stalling but still brimming with confidence.
She was quickly growing more and more uncomfortable and impatient.
I sensed my window of opportunity was closing so I tried stretching a little from side to side trying to get things going so to speak. This only added to my mothers discomfort and impatience and she said, "Get off me."
Once again I ignored her and tried small talk... then all of the sudden I felt a rumbling from within and with total confidence announced, "Here we go." I bared down with full strength and let her have it. It was a nice arid one and I expected to smell vanilla... to my disappointment and my mothers horror, it was NOT.
I leaped off her and she yelled at me and tried to hit me. She couldn't believe what I had just done. I told her that I had had 3 vanilla farts on the way home and wanted a witness. I was totally confident that number 4 was going to be vanilla also. It wasn't. It was dead crab. To her dying day she believed that my roommate offered me $20 to go home and fart on my mother.
The moral of the story is... be careful what you believe in. Just because you believe in it doesn't mean it is going to happen or is true. I believed my next fart was going to be vanilla. I had so much faith in this belief that I sat on her and farted. Our beliefs should impact our actions. If we truly believe something... shouldn't it impact how we behave? As a Christian, my beliefs in God and the Bible should impact how I live. If they don't, then, do I really believe?
Day 111
Well anyways, it was a Saturday morning, and I was on my way home for the weekend to see my parents. I was driving across the Narrows Bridge and the car filled with the smell of vanilla. I had no idea where it came from but I did enjoy the fragrance. I supposed I must have passed a bakery truck or something. Well, about 10 minutes later, I had a strong urge to fart. I was all alone in the car and so I tilted to the left(one simply doesn't not bare down and fart directly into the seat cushion!), bared down and released a nice arid fart. I was suddenly surprised as the car filled again with the smell of vanilla. It was wonderful. Then I realized, that that must have been me leaking 10 minutes earlier. I could not believe it! About 10 minutes later I had another urge. So I tilted, bared down and farted and the car filled once again with the lovely aroma of vanilla. I simply was amazing myself. I needed a witness. Then I remembered that mom was going to be home when I got there and a plan immediately came to mind.
The rest of the drive home I focused on restraining myself from farting. When I got home, I ran in the house and said, "Mom! You won't believe what happened on the way home. You have to smell..." It was at this point that I realized the flaw in my plan. How could I ask my mom to smell my next fart?
So I quickly improvised. I said, "You need to experience something." My confidence rose as I rescued myself from my predicament. My mom was in her recliner reading a book, so I walked over and sat on her lap.
I wanted to give her the full experience from the epicenter. I was going to leave no doubt. She was not happy with this maneuver of mine, however, and asked me to get off. I simply ignored her and asked her how she was doing and if she missed me.
I was stalling but still brimming with confidence.
She was quickly growing more and more uncomfortable and impatient.
I sensed my window of opportunity was closing so I tried stretching a little from side to side trying to get things going so to speak. This only added to my mothers discomfort and impatience and she said, "Get off me."
Once again I ignored her and tried small talk... then all of the sudden I felt a rumbling from within and with total confidence announced, "Here we go." I bared down with full strength and let her have it. It was a nice arid one and I expected to smell vanilla... to my disappointment and my mothers horror, it was NOT.
I leaped off her and she yelled at me and tried to hit me. She couldn't believe what I had just done. I told her that I had had 3 vanilla farts on the way home and wanted a witness. I was totally confident that number 4 was going to be vanilla also. It wasn't. It was dead crab. To her dying day she believed that my roommate offered me $20 to go home and fart on my mother.
The moral of the story is... be careful what you believe in. Just because you believe in it doesn't mean it is going to happen or is true. I believed my next fart was going to be vanilla. I had so much faith in this belief that I sat on her and farted. Our beliefs should impact our actions. If we truly believe something... shouldn't it impact how we behave? As a Christian, my beliefs in God and the Bible should impact how I live. If they don't, then, do I really believe?
Day 111
The Squirrel Story
It was the spring of my sophomore year in college at UW. I was walking to class with a friend. We were both majoring in Fisheries. It had been dry and warm for many days. We had a class together in the afternoon at the college of fisheries. 'Stan' lived in a fraternity and I in the dorms in north campus. We were walking through the campus on our way to class. There were people everywhere walking and laying in the grass. And yes, there were even some squirrels about.
Stan reached into his backpack and pulled out a Snickers candy bar and tore open the wrapper to take a bite. At the very moment he tore open the wrapper, my eyes were fixed upon a squirrel that was quite a ways in the distance. It had to be almost a football field away. There were people and even other squirrels between us but my eyes were upon that one squirrel for some reason... and when Stan ripped open the wrapper, the squirrel stopped dead in his tracks and turned and looked straight in our direction. Then it started racing towards us in the bouncing way a squirrel would run. It was approaching slightly to right of straight ahead of us. It was running as fast as it could. Stan did not see it and I was not sure what to think at first.
It seemed like such a weird coincidence at first... but the squirrel kept running as fast as it could right at us. Soon it was about 50 yards away. I still was very uncertain about it's intentions but my eyes were glued to that squirrel. A few moments later it was about 20 yards away and still Stan did not see it coming.
It was at this point that I suddenly had a moral dilemma. It was like in the movie, Emperors New Groove, when Kronk gets his shoulder angels. Should I say something to warn Stan about the approaching squirrel or should I say nothing and watch what I hope will happen... that the squirrel will go after Stan's candy bar. Part of me wanted to help Stan but then I thought how stupid it would look to push Stan aside and yell, "Squirrel!" as I try to protect him from the approaching squirrel. Another part of me thought about how cool it would be to see what might happen. So in the end, I did nothing so I could possibly watch a train wreck.
Stan never saw the squirrel the whole way. In the end, it ran right up his pant let and stopped on his chest grasping his shirt with his left front paw and both rear paws. The squirrel's right paw was left in the air and he quickly glanced from the candy bar to Stan face, back and forth for a short while. Stan had stopped walking and stood there is shock not knowing what to do.
I learned to speak some squirrel that day. After a long pause with the squirrel glancing back and forth and Stan frozen in his tracks not knowing what to do... I broke the awkward moment by suggesting that Stan give the squirrel some of his candy bar. Stan reached over the squirrel with his right hand and broke off a big piece of his candy bar and handed it to the squirrel. The squirrel grabbed it with his free right paw and turned and raced down his leg across the grass and up a tree... and in a few moments was out of sight. Stan turned and looked at me in shock. I patted him on the back and smiled and we shared a good laugh about it.
The moral to the story is ... we have needs all around us staring us in the face. We don't have to give away our entire candy bar, but we sure should be willing to give away some of our candy bar.
Day 110
Stan reached into his backpack and pulled out a Snickers candy bar and tore open the wrapper to take a bite. At the very moment he tore open the wrapper, my eyes were fixed upon a squirrel that was quite a ways in the distance. It had to be almost a football field away. There were people and even other squirrels between us but my eyes were upon that one squirrel for some reason... and when Stan ripped open the wrapper, the squirrel stopped dead in his tracks and turned and looked straight in our direction. Then it started racing towards us in the bouncing way a squirrel would run. It was approaching slightly to right of straight ahead of us. It was running as fast as it could. Stan did not see it and I was not sure what to think at first.
It seemed like such a weird coincidence at first... but the squirrel kept running as fast as it could right at us. Soon it was about 50 yards away. I still was very uncertain about it's intentions but my eyes were glued to that squirrel. A few moments later it was about 20 yards away and still Stan did not see it coming.
It was at this point that I suddenly had a moral dilemma. It was like in the movie, Emperors New Groove, when Kronk gets his shoulder angels. Should I say something to warn Stan about the approaching squirrel or should I say nothing and watch what I hope will happen... that the squirrel will go after Stan's candy bar. Part of me wanted to help Stan but then I thought how stupid it would look to push Stan aside and yell, "Squirrel!" as I try to protect him from the approaching squirrel. Another part of me thought about how cool it would be to see what might happen. So in the end, I did nothing so I could possibly watch a train wreck.
Stan never saw the squirrel the whole way. In the end, it ran right up his pant let and stopped on his chest grasping his shirt with his left front paw and both rear paws. The squirrel's right paw was left in the air and he quickly glanced from the candy bar to Stan face, back and forth for a short while. Stan had stopped walking and stood there is shock not knowing what to do.
I learned to speak some squirrel that day. After a long pause with the squirrel glancing back and forth and Stan frozen in his tracks not knowing what to do... I broke the awkward moment by suggesting that Stan give the squirrel some of his candy bar. Stan reached over the squirrel with his right hand and broke off a big piece of his candy bar and handed it to the squirrel. The squirrel grabbed it with his free right paw and turned and raced down his leg across the grass and up a tree... and in a few moments was out of sight. Stan turned and looked at me in shock. I patted him on the back and smiled and we shared a good laugh about it.
The moral to the story is ... we have needs all around us staring us in the face. We don't have to give away our entire candy bar, but we sure should be willing to give away some of our candy bar.
Day 110
Saturday, March 29, 2014
The Donut Story
This is such a weird story. All of the stories I tell my students from my past are true... although I may embellish the facts slightly.
Years ago, I taught at Marcus Whitman JH. I coached wrestling with a science teacher there. I was on my way down to his room during my planning period to discuss the days practice schedule. I had just started eating a donut. It was a Bismarck... my favorite... they are cream filled and have a chocolate glaze. I walked into his office which then had a door into his classroom. As I reached for the door, I suddenly was hit, out of no where, with this clear and wild idea... 'Scrape out some of the filling from the donut with your finger and wipe it off on the back of your neck.'
I paused. I didn't know where this idea had come from or why I should do such a weird thing. Then suddenly, I just went with the impulse and obeyed. I set my donut down on his desk in his office and walked into his room.
The class was full. The students were all taking a test. My assistant coach was at the front of the class, standing behind a full length lab table, and he was grading tests.
I still didn't know why I had put some filling from my donut on the back of my neck!
We stood there quietly talking about what we were going to do in practice that day. Suddenly it hit me! I knew why I had done it! I had a reason and I now had a plan!
I suddenly acclaimed in a loud voice, "Man! I have the biggest ZIT on the back of my neck!"
The students were all startled and they looked up at me in annoyance and disgust. They quickly refocused their efforts back on their tests and left us up at the front quietly talking again, without them paying any attention to us.
I was waiting, like a skilled fisherman I was waiting and letting them take the bait:) and they did!
After a few minutes more of talking, I loudly acclaimed, "I can't take it any longer. This ZIT is got to be ready to pop. I feels like it must be the size of Mt Rainier. I am going to try to pop it."
To their horror, they watch as I reached up and acted like I was popping a huge zit on the back of my neck. I think I must have done a good job of acting because they all went ballistic. They all started yelling at me to get out of there. They were grossed out... BUT I WAS FAR FROM DONE!
I raised my hand and quickly quieted them down.
If the room had a PANIC METER, I had not yet PEGGED IT.
I held up my right index finger that I had just used to scrape off the filling from the back of my neck. It held a large amount of filling, but to the students, it looked like the puss from the WORLDS BIGGEST ZIT. They went even crazier. They were repulsed and they were yelling and waving their arms at me to leave.
I wasn't finished yet... :)
I raised my hand again, and again they quieted down. I said, "This is science. I wonder what this stuff actually tastes like?" And I slowly started raising my finger to my mouth, while trying to act like I was not looking forward to it.
The students were horrified, but they couldn't help themselves. They sat there in shock and watched... like watching a train wreck. As my finger got closer and closer to my mouth, they got more and more agitated. My tongue finally touch the puss(filling) and the place went crazy, but again I raised my hand and they paused to listen and watch in horror as I said, "Hey, this stuff isn't that bad." and I quickly stuck my finger in my mouth and ate all of the 'puss.'
Now the place went absolutely nuts. The panic meter had been pegged. They were throwing there tests, books, pencils, pens, lunches, and even backpacks at me. They were yelling at me to get out of there. It was total pandemonium.
I weaved and dodged and made it to the door to the office. I went in and grabbed my donut and came right back into the room. The students had stopped throwing things at me because they didn't have anything left to throw. They were still yelling at me. I showed them my donut and scooped out some of the filling and at it. I even turned and showed them the back of my neck, but they were still going crazy. Finally, I took a big bite of my donut and turned to the teacher and smiled and said, "Hey, have a great day." I turned to the class and yelled, "Good luck on your test." I walked out of that room smiling as my assistant hung his head in disbelief in a room that look like a tornado had gone through.
It was a legendary moment as years later students would still want to hear about the donut story.
Day 109
Years ago, I taught at Marcus Whitman JH. I coached wrestling with a science teacher there. I was on my way down to his room during my planning period to discuss the days practice schedule. I had just started eating a donut. It was a Bismarck... my favorite... they are cream filled and have a chocolate glaze. I walked into his office which then had a door into his classroom. As I reached for the door, I suddenly was hit, out of no where, with this clear and wild idea... 'Scrape out some of the filling from the donut with your finger and wipe it off on the back of your neck.'
I paused. I didn't know where this idea had come from or why I should do such a weird thing. Then suddenly, I just went with the impulse and obeyed. I set my donut down on his desk in his office and walked into his room.
The class was full. The students were all taking a test. My assistant coach was at the front of the class, standing behind a full length lab table, and he was grading tests.
I still didn't know why I had put some filling from my donut on the back of my neck!
We stood there quietly talking about what we were going to do in practice that day. Suddenly it hit me! I knew why I had done it! I had a reason and I now had a plan!
I suddenly acclaimed in a loud voice, "Man! I have the biggest ZIT on the back of my neck!"
The students were all startled and they looked up at me in annoyance and disgust. They quickly refocused their efforts back on their tests and left us up at the front quietly talking again, without them paying any attention to us.
I was waiting, like a skilled fisherman I was waiting and letting them take the bait:) and they did!
After a few minutes more of talking, I loudly acclaimed, "I can't take it any longer. This ZIT is got to be ready to pop. I feels like it must be the size of Mt Rainier. I am going to try to pop it."
To their horror, they watch as I reached up and acted like I was popping a huge zit on the back of my neck. I think I must have done a good job of acting because they all went ballistic. They all started yelling at me to get out of there. They were grossed out... BUT I WAS FAR FROM DONE!
I raised my hand and quickly quieted them down.
If the room had a PANIC METER, I had not yet PEGGED IT.
I held up my right index finger that I had just used to scrape off the filling from the back of my neck. It held a large amount of filling, but to the students, it looked like the puss from the WORLDS BIGGEST ZIT. They went even crazier. They were repulsed and they were yelling and waving their arms at me to leave.
I wasn't finished yet... :)
I raised my hand again, and again they quieted down. I said, "This is science. I wonder what this stuff actually tastes like?" And I slowly started raising my finger to my mouth, while trying to act like I was not looking forward to it.
The students were horrified, but they couldn't help themselves. They sat there in shock and watched... like watching a train wreck. As my finger got closer and closer to my mouth, they got more and more agitated. My tongue finally touch the puss(filling) and the place went crazy, but again I raised my hand and they paused to listen and watch in horror as I said, "Hey, this stuff isn't that bad." and I quickly stuck my finger in my mouth and ate all of the 'puss.'
Now the place went absolutely nuts. The panic meter had been pegged. They were throwing there tests, books, pencils, pens, lunches, and even backpacks at me. They were yelling at me to get out of there. It was total pandemonium.
I weaved and dodged and made it to the door to the office. I went in and grabbed my donut and came right back into the room. The students had stopped throwing things at me because they didn't have anything left to throw. They were still yelling at me. I showed them my donut and scooped out some of the filling and at it. I even turned and showed them the back of my neck, but they were still going crazy. Finally, I took a big bite of my donut and turned to the teacher and smiled and said, "Hey, have a great day." I turned to the class and yelled, "Good luck on your test." I walked out of that room smiling as my assistant hung his head in disbelief in a room that look like a tornado had gone through.
It was a legendary moment as years later students would still want to hear about the donut story.
Day 109
Tears
My Algebra students took their test this week. I was happy with the results of most... but there were a few that did poorly. 'Sara' was one of them. I make it a habit of asking those that did well or improved a lot, to tell the rest of us what they thought were the most helpful things they did to cause their success. The students sit there beaming as they share their reasons for their success with the rest of us. I love doing this debrief.
Afterwards though, I was overcome by the thought that there were some students who might feel like I didn't care that much about them because they did poorly on the test. I told them that I cared about each one of them regardless of how they did on the test. I didn't want any of them to think that my care for them was dependent on how well they did.
I told them about a friend of mine I'll call 'Bill'. His dad had died when he was around 10 years old and I was a big brother to him. I took him everywhere and he worked for me for 4 summers. I loved him like he was my own son. But Bill got into bad habits and didn't want anything to do with me and dropped out of high school. I lost contact with him for many years but always prayed for him. Years later, he showed up one day at my house and he was happy. He had gotten right with the LORD and was married. He now has 4 kids and his own business and is doing great. I broke down and started crying as I was telling my students about Bill.
I composed myself, gritted my teeth and told them, "You will never be junk. I will always want the best for you. I will never give up on you... don't ever give up on yourself. You are fearfully and wonderfully made."
I wanted to say so much more. I am crying as I am writing this account. There are so many hurting kids. There is so much pain. All of these kids need Jesus. The very thing they need is the very thing I can't plainly tell them. I try to tell and live as much as I can, the love of Jesus. I always have this ache that I am not doing enough. It always haunts me. Lord help me to speak the truth in love.
Day 108
Afterwards though, I was overcome by the thought that there were some students who might feel like I didn't care that much about them because they did poorly on the test. I told them that I cared about each one of them regardless of how they did on the test. I didn't want any of them to think that my care for them was dependent on how well they did.
I told them about a friend of mine I'll call 'Bill'. His dad had died when he was around 10 years old and I was a big brother to him. I took him everywhere and he worked for me for 4 summers. I loved him like he was my own son. But Bill got into bad habits and didn't want anything to do with me and dropped out of high school. I lost contact with him for many years but always prayed for him. Years later, he showed up one day at my house and he was happy. He had gotten right with the LORD and was married. He now has 4 kids and his own business and is doing great. I broke down and started crying as I was telling my students about Bill.
I composed myself, gritted my teeth and told them, "You will never be junk. I will always want the best for you. I will never give up on you... don't ever give up on yourself. You are fearfully and wonderfully made."
I wanted to say so much more. I am crying as I am writing this account. There are so many hurting kids. There is so much pain. All of these kids need Jesus. The very thing they need is the very thing I can't plainly tell them. I try to tell and live as much as I can, the love of Jesus. I always have this ache that I am not doing enough. It always haunts me. Lord help me to speak the truth in love.
Day 108
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Hard to Watch
My students will be taking their tests tomorrow. In my first period class, I was disappointed that 10 students didn't do 7 problems I gave them for homework on their practice test. I told them that if they won't take their practice seriously, it will be very hard for them to do well on their test. This first period class is such a challenging class for me. There are so many students that are very low and don't try much. They probably don't try much because they are so low. I have to keep encouraging them... but they will receive their poor grades they will earn.
My student 'Sara' was also frustrating to me today. Her test is tomorrow and she was not doing some of the practice problems we were doing in class... WEIRD. You can lead a horse to water...
I don't get why some of these low students act like they want to stay low... especially when they have experienced success. I am praying for them. I need to love them where they are and encourage, exhort, motivate, challenge and teach them to grow, learn and improve.
It is hard to see students continuously make poor decisions in the classroom. They have the opportunity to learn, but some don't take advantage of it. It is hard to watch. I told them so today... 'Sara' knew she was one of the people I was talking about and seemed to not like hearing it. I want to speak the truth in love, while at the same time... not judge any of them... IT IS HARD.
Day 108
My student 'Sara' was also frustrating to me today. Her test is tomorrow and she was not doing some of the practice problems we were doing in class... WEIRD. You can lead a horse to water...
I don't get why some of these low students act like they want to stay low... especially when they have experienced success. I am praying for them. I need to love them where they are and encourage, exhort, motivate, challenge and teach them to grow, learn and improve.
It is hard to see students continuously make poor decisions in the classroom. They have the opportunity to learn, but some don't take advantage of it. It is hard to watch. I told them so today... 'Sara' knew she was one of the people I was talking about and seemed to not like hearing it. I want to speak the truth in love, while at the same time... not judge any of them... IT IS HARD.
Day 108
Thursday, March 20, 2014
A Victory
'Sara' is a student I have written about several times over the past few weeks. I talked with Sara today and asked her if her neighbor helped her yesterday. She said that she wasn't that helpful. I explained to her that I knew she had been trying lately and she was even showing lots of work, but she wasn't getting the problems correct.
I told her that it was fine to work the problems a different way, as long as she got the correct answer. She has not been getting many right. I encouraged her to follow my directions and see if it helps her be more successful.
Today she did. It was very cool. She was getting most of the problems right. She still has lots of holes to fill, but as long as she stay coachable and follows directions, she will have her best chance of learning... today she seemed to realize this.
I talked with her after class and complemented her on being coachable and asked her if it made a difference. Sara smiled and agreed that it did. I had goose bumps... VICTORY!
Day 107
I told her that it was fine to work the problems a different way, as long as she got the correct answer. She has not been getting many right. I encouraged her to follow my directions and see if it helps her be more successful.
Today she did. It was very cool. She was getting most of the problems right. She still has lots of holes to fill, but as long as she stay coachable and follows directions, she will have her best chance of learning... today she seemed to realize this.
I talked with her after class and complemented her on being coachable and asked her if it made a difference. Sara smiled and agreed that it did. I had goose bumps... VICTORY!
Day 107
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