Am I Really Defending Kids Right Now?

Have you met my hair.  Here, let me introduce you.

I know, look at those curls!  How can you be sad with hair like that?  It is so gorgeous.  Blah blah blah.  Are you not seeing all the other hairs that aren't part of a curl and are a fucking frizzy halo that refuse to go with the crowd?  I was stuck talking to someone in the rain today ("Oh, we're getting wet!"), and I could feel my hair growing by the second.  I still had two more hours to spend at work while it dried.  There was no going back after that.  I just refused to look at myself for the rest of the day.

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Today was the last day of tutoring my 6th-grade girls.  Between my busy boring tasks at work, I wrote three heart-felt cards and one total bullshitting-it card.  All of them were a bit difficult, but hey, I gave kids cards that basically told them they were awesome and I'm very privileged to have met them.  Ends up one of my girls was suspended, but I gave her card to the teacher.  One of my other girls ran away to another group a month or so back (how those preteens do get overly dramatic with each other), but she was my little sparkplug and she really needed a card so she knew that she may have lost her friends in the group, but I still cared.  I'm selfish like that.  It is very important for people to know I still care about them.  Why?  Because I'm the most important person in the room (I realize only Amazon will get that, but I don't care).  To make things even better, I gave them cards with Extraordinary Chickens on them.  Basically, if I like something, I know 6th-grade girls will like it.  It's only a flaw if you're lame and boring.

The teacher had them write cards to their "coaches."  I don't know how much passion I instilled in them for reading, but I know that I taught them to remind each other, "Don't do stupid things at school.  Outside of school, whatever.  Just not in school."  Obviously I make a great life coach to 12-year-old girls.  Sadly, one of them is obviously not following this sage advice, since she was suspended for making out in the hallway.  Remember when that was okay?  Sure, the teachers were like gross, cut that out, go to class, but you didn't really get in trouble for it.  They take that shit way more seriously now.  They are also color-code dressing by grade.  Perhaps drinking in the locker room isn't that stupid under such conditions. 

Excerpts from their thank-you cards:

"I love you!" (x3)

"Thank you for telling us very good thing [sic] to me and my friends." (Oh, only one good thing.  Boo.)

"I really like what you did." (Like that time I said, "Oh, shit" in front of them when I forgot something?)

"Thank you...also for giving us snaks [sic]." (I never gave them snacks.  Awesome scented erasers in teeny milk cartons, yes; snacks, no.)

I wonder if I had boys in my group what they would have said?  Would they also say they love me?  Would they also thank me for imaginary snacks?  I should have read over another volunteer's shoulder to get a better idea of what 12-year-old boys write when forced by their teachers.

Part of wrapping up another year of bribing kids to read boring crap is for me to complete a survey for the group I volunteer with.  It was actually in essay format this year, which filled me with tons of overflowing glee.  No one should let me take advantage of them like that.  Unfortunately, in my zeal to shoot the survey back to them, I totally forgot to copy myself.  Gah.  I had a really good thing going with how I felt the program could be improved (monkeys riding goats!).  I dusted off my soapbox and preached my beliefs that kids are not dollar signs, and we're never going to convince them how awesome reading is if we keep stressing state-mandated tests that generate money for schools.  A kid is more than a passing grade.  Value cannot be assessed by test scores.  They offer these brittle "stories" that give a short history of Hershey's or Levi's or Johnny Appleseed, and if it makes me want to bang my head on the desk, then it must be making them want to slit their wrists and run around the room flinging blood on everyone.  I don't really appreciate working for a program that isn't really serious about getting kids to want to laze a whole Sunday away reading under a tree (and napping, one must really nap when enjoying a book).

Now, I realize that this is a tricky matter in that schools need money to improve.  But to improve what exactly?  Is the money really spent on a better curriculum?  Where does that money go?  Why do kids have to be continuously tested and not just enjoy learning.  I could sit all day learning about snails and blowfishes and autoimmune disease, but if you start telling me that I have to learn this because there will be a test at the end of the year, then, then I would totally plotz and start focusing on memorizing instead of enjoying what I'm learning.  I'm not going to actually absorb the info--it will drop out of my head within a day after taking the test.  Then, every time I hear someone say snail, blowfish and autoimmune diseases, I'll roll my eyes and snark about that horrible year in school where it was ALL snail, blowfish, autoimmune disease all the fucking time as if anyone cared about snails, blowfishes and autoimmune diseases!  Don't we all know that you have to trick people in to liking something?  Especially kids?  I refuse to push that agenda, and instead focus on discussing what we read, how did they feel about it, how does it relate to their own lives, what will they take away from what they read.  You know, actually making it about them and not some fucking test.

It's funny, my Green Lady had a similar thought (though way less wordy--good for her!) today.  She is in her last few days of teaching, and boy is she in a good mood!  Though, her beef may only be with how many students are absent from her class at any given time due to testing.  However, I hope she expands on her thoughts after she gets through with what promises to be an awesome show this weekend.  And don't listen to her go on about her voice.  I'm so immature when I go out with Amazon to choral concerts--I giggle and say plenty of inappropriate comments regarding the translations (Eve was so sexy with that snake!), but when Green Lady sings, I listen.  I shut up.  My mouth hangs open a bit and I am so happy and jealous, oh so fucking jealous, at the same time.  Why can't I sing like that.  That is what she should be complaining about--Why can't the most important person in the room sing like she can?  Seriously?  Why can't I?
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More poo!  A nice big chunk of poo.  I did have to use a Q-tip to get it all out of him, just like a good mother does.  He also peed so much that I had to change his wound dressing and shoot antibiotics in to him.  He is now ignoring me by attempting to swim in to the corner of his terrarium.  Poor thing doesn't seem to realize that he is a desert-dweller and that if he went in for a swim, he'd immediately sink to the bottom.