How the Grinch Stole Christmas Quiz

    The last day of school before Christmas break is typically a difficult day to teach a lesson or give a test. Yet I have trouble letting my kids have a day at school where they do nothing. Mostly this is because if you give 32 adolescents lots of sugar and unstructured time in an enclosed space, tragedy ensues. So I show a movie and not just any movie, but the cartoon version (the only version, in my mind) of Dr. Seuss' "How the Grinch Stole Christmas". While my kids watch this, I give them a group quiz during which they may shout out answers to each other and use calculators and ask me. I don't grade it and I fess up to that if asked. "I will look at them," I reply. "But will it count toward our grade?" "I will not score it, but I will look at them..." ambiguity is my friend.
    Geometry gets a more difficult version. So test your skills. Cue up the movie and see if you can answer these questions. They are in sequential order and are intended to be answered while watching the movie, not after. Best of luck and Merry Christmas!

How the Grinch Stole Christmas Quiz

1. How many sizes too small was the Grinch’s heart?

2. The Grinch lives in what compass direction from Who-ville?

3. How many servers with trays were inside each other?

4. If each server is half the size of the previous and the first one is 3 feet tall, how tall is the smallest one?

5. How many years has the Grinch “put up with Christmas?”

6.  How long is the pole with which the singer would not touch Mr. Grinch?

7. Explain the physical principal that causes Max to fall forward (hint: it has to do with centroid).

8. What did the Grinch use to pull out the mails holding the stockings above the fireplace?

9. What geometric shape are the Christmas ornaments with which he plays pool?

10. How many kids were in the same bed?

11. What did he take the last can of?

12.  Write an inequality to describe the possible age in months of Cindy Lu Who.

13.  If the smallest size of a crumb that a mouse would eat is 2mm wide, write an inequality to describe the possible sizes of crumbs left by Mr. Grinch.

14.  What three words can be used to describe Mr. Grinch?

15.  How many feet up Mt. Crumpit did he travel?

16.  Use the following diagram to discover the altitude of the tip top of Mt. Crumpit.

	(*There is supposed to be a diagram of a right triangle, the base of which measures 8,000ft*)

 

                     

                           8,000 feet

17.  If the Volume of the Grinch’s heart was 4 cm³ before it grew, what would be the new volume of his heart?

18. What was the equation used to describe the Grinch’s new strength?

19.  If the strength of one Grinch is 3 horse power, what was the new strength of the Grinch?

20.  What are your plans for the winter break?

It Was All Going So Poorly and Then the Blood Poured Out

This year my sixth period is my most difficult class. They are a sweet group of very immature kids. They have only finished one complete lesson before the bell rang. That means they have stayed late after school every day since September, but one. They just can't seem to stop talking and stay focused. They are like a cauldron of boiling energy just waiting to spill out over the edge. They are by no means bad kids, they are kind and loving and love me, but they have no idea how to be good students. I direct them in this daily, but it doesn't seem to stick.

Today started and I knew that it would be one of those days were I was directing and redirecting a thousand times and I would potentially lose my voice and my patience. I began class with an activity and after explaining for 5-7 minutes in detail, half the class still didn't know what to do. I went to those groups and explained it again and after another 10 minutes or so, was ready to begin the discussion that would explain the purpose of the activity. After another 3 minutes or so we finally started to get to some meaty information (now about 5 minutes behind the other classes I had taught). Kids were generally settling down and focusing and understanding.

One boy was not participating with his partner and after several reminders was slowly frustrating his capable partner, Bob. The class started to get loud and I knew we were at a breaking point. If I didn't get them to quiet down immediately, there was no hope in finishing the lesson. As I was quieting them down, Bob asked to go to the restroom (a common request when real work is at hand). I told him no and passed out the papers for their notes. Suddenly blood spewed (and I mean spewed) from Bob's nose. He stood up (bleeding all over his desk and shirt) and tried to go to the supply closet. I told him he could totally go to the bathroom. I grabbed some napkins to hand him as he was going outside and specifically said, "Don't touch anything on his desk!" I stepped outside to give him the napkins and apologized for not letting him go to the bathroom earlier.

In the 3 seconds it took for me to do this, Bob's partner was touching the bloody paper on the desk! I screamed for him to stop. All I could think of was all the communicable diseases that this kids could potentially get by handling someone's blood. I said sternly, "Are you trained in how to properly handle blood? That is so dangerous!!" I think he was trying to be helpful and was using Bob's note paper to wipe up the desk.

I then did the only thing I could do - I tried to rescue my failing lesson. I kept to my script as I donned gloves and napkins, and Clorox wipes and cleaned and disposed of the blood. Bless their hearts, but the kids were not listening to a word I had to say about cups and pints. "You look like a doctor!" "Don't doctors get paid a lot?" "Doctors get paid more than teachers." "You did a good job cleaning that up, you should be a doctor."

I did the best I could. Bob returned with blood all over his shirt and then proceeded to take all of his notes. I think we can only be expected to handle so much and there was not much more anyone could do. I guess in this class, when it bleeds, it pours.

That's Why

God has impeccable timing. Today was a day where I felt like I can impact the lives of the kids who care, but not the ones who don't. I've been feeling that way for a while and God keeps showing me little glimmers of hope. "Don't give up," they whisper as I trudge through daily ups and downs of teaching.

I often teach both the highest and lowest math classes we offer. It creates a balance in my day and also in everyone's schedules. It's easy to feel like a great teacher when you teach kids who already understand math, feel good about their skills, and generally like school. I can take the cream of the crop and keep them there. That is a gift, but it is a daily rewarding one that is hardly ever discouraging. It is easy to feel like a lousy teacher when you teach students who have difficulty with the most basic of math skills and who are afraid of failure (or are comfortable with it) who think school is a lesser form of prison where if you serve your time, you can check out soon.

I have some of the same students from last year's lowest course in this year's regular level course (I teach that too). They are now mixed in with students of all sorts of skill levels and I can see some of my kids just trying to keep quiet and stay in the shadows. They hope to graciously accept the F and slide on through the cracks. I can't let that happen. I try all sorts of methods to prevent it and I feel like none of them are successful. If the student is ready to fail and not brave enough to put in another effort another year, there is little I can do to change that.

Last week I was teaching about simplifying expressions. One of my former (and also current) students was again doing nothing as all the other students practiced a problem together. I knelt by his desk and whispered, "You have to do one problem correctly to show me you know how to do this before you leave today or you owe me your break so you can learn it." He asked me how to do the first problem and we did it together. We continued this way for all four problems. By the fourth, he was doing the whole problem on his own. I watched silently as he did each step perfectly and explained it verbally to me as he went along. I was so proud of him, tears started to brim. He looked up nervously, "Did I do it right?" I nodded and whispered, "Look at my eyes. I'm so proud of you, I'm going to cry. It's perfect! I'm so proud of you." He smiled wide and proud. This is a student who received less than a 10% last year for his final grade and he now knows how to simplify expressions!!

The next day he was diligently taking notes, asking questions, and participating with his classmates. I wrote him a "proud of you" post-it and stuck it to his shirt as he was leaving class. I heard from another adult on campus that he keeps it in the front of his notebook - a bright pink post-it saying that he worked hard and his teacher noticed. Who knows if this is the turning point for him, but if I am able to help him see that if he tries, he may not always fail, then maybe I can see that too.

I got a visit today from a student who was big trouble four years ago when I had him. He pulled pranks, lied, damaged my property, lied about that, stole, lied about that. He was a very scary kid because he was smart and charming and used his powers for evil. Well, he visited today to tell me that he is taking the right level of math (that means he passed his math classes), he's liking school, he's learning auto mechanics, and is going to go to trade school when he graduates. He's looking forward to being old enough to vote, but he wants to take Civics first so that he can be a more informed voter and understand the process better. Here was a mature, respectful, wonderful young man who knew the importance of his education. He biked in from Fountain Valley to tell me that he was doing really well and to see how I was. How am I doing? I'm doing great, thanks, just great.

So God is reminding me that I do my job not for the results of this moment, but for the future. I may never see how I impact them and I may feel like I fail every day with some kids. But my success is not measured by some number from a test or even some grades in a class. I teach lessons that go deeper than any test can assess and I need to be reminded that this is why I do it.

Words Matter

It may surprise you, but I love to talk. I know, I can hear the collective gasp of shock. I think God has a good laugh at me when I lose my voice completely. I love to speak and sing and make noise, even when no one is around to hear it. I love to read and write words. My love language is words of affirmation. I love words.

And yet, there are times when I seem to forget the power of words. I speak to people all day long. It's my job to do so. I have 200 young minds that listen to me, in varying degrees, for 43 minutes a day. Sometimes I say things in frustration to my students that I cannot believe have come out of my mouth. I say things that I would never say to an adult. Sarcasm comes spewing forth and I feel better for an instant, but I wonder if I've hurt their feelings. Yesterday I had a lunch party in my room for one period because they won a competition for raising money for cancer research. The kids did an amazing job of cleaning up, but the smell of Italian food filled the class. The two classes after lunch noticed and complained again and again. Finally, at the beginning of sixth period, I opened with, "Yes, it smells like food in here because my first period class had a party at lunch. I am sorry it smells like onions." The kids responded by shouting out simultaneously about what else it smelled like - 15 or so comments at the same time. I shouted back, "Thank you! It's not like I live in this room and have been smelling this stench for hours. I don't need you to describe every smell!" My face was turning red and they were surprised to illicit such a violent response of sarcasm. They got over pretty fast, but I certainly was mad over something pretty small.

I get used to the idea that maybe my words don't really matter. I think I can say hurtful things and they'll let it pass or I can say encouragement and it just flows past their preteen ears without making any difference. Some students respond to a discussion with me as if they had ear buds in their ears with music blaring. They smile and nod (or frown and nod) at all the appropriate places and wait for the lecture to be over.

But words are more powerful than that. I should know. I have remembered words teachers said to me ages ago. I have remembered good and bad things people have said in passing to me. Authority figures especially make a mark on my memory. (My favorite is when a teacher wanted a definition for effervescent and someone in class responded, "Brenda") I have post-it notes of encouragement that I sometimes give to my students. They say things like, "You can be proud of yourself for ..." or "I noticed something special about you today. It was..." or "You have no idea how much you helped me when..." I fill them out and just stick them to a kid's desk. I know for some kids, this is a special thing. For some I assume it means nothing...but I am wrong.

Yesterday, I was talking with a student who is really smart, but doesn't always do his work. His effort (and eventually his grade) fluctuates up and down depending on his mood. He had done nothing in class on his project that day. When I asked him during class, he said he was working on it at home. I told him that he had to do at least one part today. I checked on him at the end of class and he had not met the goal I had set for him. He had nothing. He then confessed that he had lost the paper explaining the project and didn't know what to do. He opened his notebook to show me the one part he did have and I saw a purple sticky note that said, "You can feel proud of yourself for working so much harder in math class." I gave that note to him in third quarter. He had saved it in his notebook.

On the surface this kid seems unfazed by me or my teaching. He seems too cool for school. He knows all the answers and can choose to participate or not, it doesn't matter. And yet he kept my note. He wasn't going to show it, but my words affect him.

I need to be so careful with what I say. I have the power to motivate and bring down 2oo times over every day. In my frustrations I need to be an example to my kids of what's appropriate. I need to use words that lift up, even in discipline. What a responsibility! I need to never take it lightly.

Let me end with an anecdote from one of my classes during a discussion about Einstein:
Kid 1: Wasn't it true that Einstein was only good at one thing?
Me: No, he was good at a lot of things.
Kid 1: That doesn't make me feel better about myself.
Me: But did you know that one of Einstein's teachers said that he would never amount to much?
Class in a bored, drone tone: Yes
Me: Ahh, the power of a discouraging word to motivate someone to great heights.
Kid 1: Man, now we'll never amount to anything, Miss D.
Me: Why not?
Kid 1: You encourage us too much!

The End of 'Me' Time

I often hear the admonition to "take some time for yourself" or "you can't please everyone" or "maybe you should reduce some of the stress in your life." I hear these admonitions, but I don't usually listen. I fill my life with all sorts of activities and obligations. Someone once asked me if my work was my life and I answered, "Yes, but so is my family and my church. I try to squeeze three lives into one." Is this wearing? Is this something that brings my stress levels up and my sleep time down? Yes.

So this spring break, I decided to heed those warnings and take some time for me. I went on a women's retreat to start it off and had a wonderful time. While there, I tried hard not to think of what I should be doing to maximize my effective use of time. I tried not to squeeze in as much conversation time with each person I knew and while talking with her thinking, "I need to also talk with those thirty other people." Instead I just talked with whomever was near. I talked as long as I wanted and listened wholeheartedly.

After I got back, I hid away at the beach house. I brought a little food, some clothes, and some books and I just sat outside and read. For three days. It was wonderful. I even spent one whole day where I didn't think, "what should I be doing now instead of this?" I ignored my potential responsibilities and just existed. It was glorious. Nine hours of sleep each night, food all day and two books completed.

Now that I'm back in the real world, the dam is no longer able to hold back the waters of responsibility and I feel that I've stayed away too long. Tomorrow I have choir, church, missions report, time to spend with my family (especially Paul and Erin), hundreds of papers to grade, and laundry to do. This week at school I have "Annie" rehearsals, lesson plans to refine, sub plans to write, grades to enter, seating charts, and meetings. After school I have Bible studies, dr. appointments, and friends to see.

I don't want to complain (too late, I suppose) because I love my life. I love to do all of the things I do. I love my family, and I love my friends. I love to devote myself to these things. As my friend, Aleta, said: I like to keep my cup full, to the brim and just above so that I cannot take one more drop.

It was nice to have a couple days of just me time, but now I feel like I've not spent my week off as well as I could. I certainly procrastinated on the important stuff enough. Let the busy days begin.

Determining your levels of fatigue

I am tired. This is a common thing for me. I do too much and I don't sleep. Plus, I haven't been exercising, which just exacerbates the problem. Since I always seem to complain of being tired (my Grandpa Dempsey used to ask if I was bitten by a TsiTsi fly when I was in high school) I thought it would be helpful to create a set of sleepiness levels.

Level 1: tired
This is when you've had a long day and you put your feet up after a long day of work and think, "Man, I had a long day." You don't feel so very tired, but just a little after a long day of work

Level 2: nappy
Your eyes won't stay open and you just want to close them. If you need to get up and do something you can, but you might not want to.

Level 3: slow
It seems that everything goes just a bit slower; waking up, getting ready, starting your day, even speaking. It all is a little slower than normal

Level 4: eyes hurting, light burning, no waking...
The alarm is evil, your eyes won't open and you think that maybe you can get ready in 30 minutes instead of an hour. Suddenly, doing hair and make-up seem insignificant.

Level 5: counting down to sitting down
You prep yourself with, "If I just get through the next hour, I can sit down and rest for five minutes." You go through this for the whole day. The drive home takes too long and you can't wait to not do anything but sit and rest.

Level 6: Emotional and physical breakdown
Words don't form complete sentences and sense making is not what you are doing. This making you sad and worried and emotional and stuff...much difficult when your job is speak and teach. So tired...no words...want sleep...

I really reached level 6 on Wednesday. I even cancelled my two/three normal Wednesday activities after school. I did have to drive to Target to buy cards, cheese, crackers, and soda for a work party the next day. I was really mad that I had to go when I felt so tired. I nearly got into a car accident and I grumbled the whole time. I did buy myself a People magazine (for the first time in 8 years or so) about High School Musical 3. That made me a little happier. I also started doing yoga again and I think that the stretching is helping me sleep better and then maybe I'll only be at a level 2. Here's hoping...