Is This The Moment . . .?
Yesterday was a probably the most stressed I have been at school in a really really long time. With exams starting yesterday morning, it was coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs. What added to my stress was my anxiety about a student. He has a VERY hard time dealing with stress. The days leading up to exams had been . . . emotional for him. I understand his anxiety- I do not begrudge his anxiety. However- I had no idea how I was going to help him get his meltdown resolved, and get an exam started with my class- all in a flutter because we were in a different classroom, and answer 5 bazillion questions from the other students who were all thrown off by the change in schedule. Just thinking about multi-tasking all of that . . . had me freaking out. In addition to the other crazy things that had happened that morning: like an excessively snotty nose, and a crazy itchy ear from the Poison Oak.
As I was walking towards the trailer to start testing, my student that I was most worried about, saw me- realized I was stressed, and said, "Mrs. Latta- is there anything I can do?!" I said, "Not really. Do you know how to give me some mental help?!" He- as serious as all get out said- "I'm not sure I'm qualified for that." His response was exactly what I needed. I laughed. I needed the laugh- and I was okay.
How ironic that the student I was most worried about melting down- helped me get over my melt down?
So . . . this was a teacher made test (for my non- teaching friends that thankfully means- it was not a dumb standardized test with 5 million procedures and protocols to be followed.) I had answered a million questions about the schedule for the day, answered the phone 1 million times, and endured 2 long announcements about the procedures for the day, reminded everyone that they could NOT use their cell phones until after lunch, and that even if they finished in 10 minutes, they all just had to sit there for HOURS and HOURS and HOURS. I had finally gotten the test handed out. I thought everyone was settled when . . . a student raised their hand. I walked over, and I said, "What's up?" He said, "I can't see this. The font is too small." . . .
Uhhhhh- what? Really? Come again? Is he messing with me right now? For real?! He's never had trouble seeing the tests or quizzes before. (And I won't lie- sometimes I have been known to make quizzes smaller than maybe I should- to squeeze them on one page so that I don't use too much paper.) Plus- he was just reading a novel that most definitely did not have size 12 Arial Font. So again I say, "huh?"
But . . . I didn't want him to fail, or have trouble, or I don't know- so I figured out how to make it bigger- it is an exam after all, but it was on a pdf file . . . and it took me awhile to remember how to enlarge it. Then I had to print it in the media center. Then I had to call the media center and ask them to bring me the test, since I couldn't very well leave during the exam. There would have been chaos!
As I opened the door to get the new, larger exam, I could feel all of the students eyes on me. As I walked the test over to him, their eyes were still on me. When the student said, "Uh-oh." There was a collective intake of breath. The whole trailer stared at me. It felt like they were thinking, "OMG. This is the moment Mrs. Latta loses her *&%^! She's going to go Clark Griswold." But I didn't. I didn't even feel mad. But the other students staring, and the expression on one student's face . . . I still laugh about it. I ask the student, "Now what?" He said, "It's not stapled." So I stapled it. I sat down. And he finished the exam and made a "B."
All's well that end's well . . . this time. The next time could be the moment . . .
As I was walking towards the trailer to start testing, my student that I was most worried about, saw me- realized I was stressed, and said, "Mrs. Latta- is there anything I can do?!" I said, "Not really. Do you know how to give me some mental help?!" He- as serious as all get out said- "I'm not sure I'm qualified for that." His response was exactly what I needed. I laughed. I needed the laugh- and I was okay.
How ironic that the student I was most worried about melting down- helped me get over my melt down?
So . . . this was a teacher made test (for my non- teaching friends that thankfully means- it was not a dumb standardized test with 5 million procedures and protocols to be followed.) I had answered a million questions about the schedule for the day, answered the phone 1 million times, and endured 2 long announcements about the procedures for the day, reminded everyone that they could NOT use their cell phones until after lunch, and that even if they finished in 10 minutes, they all just had to sit there for HOURS and HOURS and HOURS. I had finally gotten the test handed out. I thought everyone was settled when . . . a student raised their hand. I walked over, and I said, "What's up?" He said, "I can't see this. The font is too small." . . .
Uhhhhh- what? Really? Come again? Is he messing with me right now? For real?! He's never had trouble seeing the tests or quizzes before. (And I won't lie- sometimes I have been known to make quizzes smaller than maybe I should- to squeeze them on one page so that I don't use too much paper.) Plus- he was just reading a novel that most definitely did not have size 12 Arial Font. So again I say, "huh?"
But . . . I didn't want him to fail, or have trouble, or I don't know- so I figured out how to make it bigger- it is an exam after all, but it was on a pdf file . . . and it took me awhile to remember how to enlarge it. Then I had to print it in the media center. Then I had to call the media center and ask them to bring me the test, since I couldn't very well leave during the exam. There would have been chaos!
As I opened the door to get the new, larger exam, I could feel all of the students eyes on me. As I walked the test over to him, their eyes were still on me. When the student said, "Uh-oh." There was a collective intake of breath. The whole trailer stared at me. It felt like they were thinking, "OMG. This is the moment Mrs. Latta loses her *&%^! She's going to go Clark Griswold." But I didn't. I didn't even feel mad. But the other students staring, and the expression on one student's face . . . I still laugh about it. I ask the student, "Now what?" He said, "It's not stapled." So I stapled it. I sat down. And he finished the exam and made a "B."
All's well that end's well . . . this time. The next time could be the moment . . .
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