See I Told You!

     It's 8:30am and the Kindergartners are all sloshing down strawberry yogurt and rice crispy cereal. "Okay, throw out all trash, boys and girls," I instructed as I stood ready to leave. "Line up, one two..." EYES ON YOU!! they all finished.
    "Now remember, boys and girls, marshmallow toes!" I guided the five-year-old squirts up the stairwell, out of the cafeteria. They teetered along, trying to maintain some balance with their incredibly over-sized Dora the Explorer backpacks.
     After entering the room the students hung up their coats and found their way to their seats. "Miz? Where's Miz Tate" one of the girls asked; her hair barrettes swung rhythmically as she spoke. The other students anxiously looked to me for an answer. A surprising amount of anxiousness, I thought.
    "Oh she's in a meeting, so I'm just standing in for her this morning," I explained.
    "SEE! SEE Sumiyah, I told you! I TOLD you she wasn't dead," yelled Briana. "Miz, Sumiiyah thought teacher was dead, I told her she was probably just at home with her dog."
    "Oh no sweetie! Did it scare you that I picked you up from breakfast?" I asked Sumiiyah.
    " I just knew we didn't have music now....I thought Miz Tate had to be dead or else she would have come!" Of course! That would be the only reason a teacher would miss school. Such dedication :)
 

SIDE:  I'm in Panara right now and the lady at the counter just said "Miss?" talking to the lady ordering, reminding her to take her change. I'm sitting in a booth, probably fifteen-twenty feet away (although I'm terrible at guesstimating distances...) and I instinctively turned and said, "Yes?" She looked at me like "why would I be talking to you?" I looked at myself like "This is real life, not the classroom, why would she be talking to you..get it together woman, your name is Abigail."

Cute Car & My New Jacket.

November 4th, 2011

Friday.

Cute Car.


"Hey Miz Van Patter," waved little third grade Tameka as I drove past in my car. "Have a good weekend Tameka," I smiled back through the half opened window.
"See I told you it was Miz VP! You didn't believe me!" Tameka squealed to Amiah who was squinting in my direction. "Nuh-uh!" Amiah replied.
"THAT'S THE MUSIC TEACHER..." Tameka explained, in her best "tour guide" voice, to the "younger" kids in her posse.
     "Girl, your car is cuh-ute!" Yelled Amiah to me, turning to Tameka, "Aint that junk hot?"

My Jacket.


"Miz you hot in here?" Angel asked, fanning his face as he spoke. "Yeah, it's really hot in here today, I tried to open the windows but they're stuck," I answered.
"I got a new jacket. My ma, she bought be this hundred dollar coat, I was sweating in it all day. That junk be hot, Isaiah aint' that junk be draw'n?" Isaiah nodded, a little peeved he didn't have the jacket himself, I think. "Miz. He all hype about that jacket."
"It's like a fall, winter, and spring coat in one. You can take it apart. That's cool?" He asked, needing my approval. "That's cool, Miz, right, that's cool?" I smiled, "Very cool." "Yeah, it's north face, that stuff's nasty, right?" He flashed me a smile.

Half Bell Schedule

(Student names have been changed.)

October 28th, 2011.

            There are twenty seven inner-city seventh grade students; a multicultural combination of beautiful colors and faces sitting behind a collection of reject desks in the back end of their middle school.  Sharing fifteen tattered and torn orange music books relatively evenly distributed across the classroom, they are itching to express themselves.

           Belting "Little shop, little shop of horrors...." in anticipation of the Halloween holiday. Their first reaction being, "Miz, what is this music?" shortly followed by, "Ah, nah, aint gun' happen," quickly followed by, "Miz you like this?" eventually followed by, "Well..." By the end of the fifty minute period everyone was on board. So on board, in fact, that I had a difficult time getting them ready to leave for end of the day dismissal.

           "Quickly, I know this is fun, but we have to wrap it up. Books on the shelf, line up, girls first, go." Desks and chairs scratching, bustling movement of backpacks, scarves, jackets and seventh graders. 

           Shamiyah rushes to the front of the line flashing a brilliant smile, "Miz, now you got me singing."

           I laughed, "good!" 

           She looks at the wall next to the door, "half bell schedule, what's that?"

           "It's the bell schedule for a half day," I half-answered while I called the boys to line up and get ready for the stairs.

           "Half bell? OOOOh like half day. I got'chu, Miz, I got'chu," She bops her head like there's a song playing inside. Suddenly the sound emerges, "Half bell schedule....Eight twenty teachers arrive..." in that instant the half bell schedule became the next big number in our musical called "Life." "Miz, all this musical Broadway stuff, the theater stuff, it's got me singing."

            "Girl you can't even sing, don't even try," another student chimes in, "Eight thirty, first bell is ruuuuuuu-uh-uuuuuuung," she sings adding riffs and fluff. "Dats how you dooo it."

            The two girls take turns singing through the entire bell schedule and at the end together they sing "Twelve oh nine....school...is...deMISSSSSSSED..." finishing on, what I would only assume, was their highest possible note. Stunned, they turned to each other, "What...did you...that was...we just...the same. Shoot that was hot. We all hype now Miz, that junk be drawlin." Amazed that their voices unified at the finale of their truly entertaining and intertwining musical monologues; I thought to myself, "This is why I teach inner-city. Personality."