What the Shakespeare?

I am slowly feeling myself come back. In addition to the knee injury I sustained when I slipped on ice two years ago, I was stabbed in August. I wrote about it this fall but haven't put the post out into the world because of the circumstances surrounding the incident. Maybe one day. Suffice it to say, it's been a hard year. Harder than my first two years teaching middle school at my current school - which was surprising given how much I loved teaching middle school at a previous school.

A current high school student, from my first eighth grade class in my current building, was leaving a funeral as I was walking back from dropping my class off in the gym this week. In addition to the pleasantries we exchanged, he told me his class had set me up to fail; that they had been "evil." While I denied the claim of them being evil, I said I had known they set me up to fail. They were upset that I was not my predecessor and made sure I knew it. Enough of them fell into this habitual way of interacting with me that forming relationship with the class as a whole proved impossible for me. They even made me cry during the last week of school by posting on a Jamboard (remember Jamboards?) that when they went on the Washington DC trip, they realized I hadn't taught them anything all year long in their U.S. History class. Even though I had always known the cause of their ire, it was cathartic to hear from the mouth of a student who had been there that they had set me up to fail.

This year I am teaching both of my former fourth grade classes. Of course there have been shifts in the rosters, with students leaving and new students joining the classes. But by and large, I've known these kids since they were nine. And I've started to bounce a bit again. Just a bit, as I am still in fairly constant pain from my two-year-old knee injury. (I had an MRI yesterday and am hoping for actionable results.) I also stand on a lunch table seat when I have lunch duty to get the kids' attention rather than raising my voice or blowing a whistle... even though the lunch lady whose daughter is in my class (for the second time) always tells me I shouldn't in case I fall and injure myself further.

Today I unlocked a pretty huge achievement. I wore a necklace all day long. It's the first time I even attempted to wear a necklace to school since I was stabbed. I tried a couple of weeks ago to wear one and could only tolerate it for a couple of hours. But I didn't even feel the necklace today, except when I was showing off to my co-workers that I was wearing it.

But the biggest sign that I am coming back to the teacher I used to be comes from my interactions with students. I overheard a group of girls whispering about someone's new boyfriend and stage whispered back, "Sally Sue has a boyfriend!?" The tea turned out to be about a celebrity rather than a classmate, but my stage whisper did get the trio to turn their attention back to their work.

Yesterday my Catholic school seventh graders were investigating Renaissance art and literature, looking for humanist characteristics. They were excited to see we would be examining two works by Petrarch, whose quote had been a major launching point of our Medieval Times unit. They were happy to learn Petrarch had been a priest until they also learned he wrote over 300 love sonnets to someone named Laura. There was an uproar. So, I said, "When you are having that reaction, say, 'What the Shakespeare?'" They repeated that phrase several times throughout class yesterday.

Today, we were in the middle of reading from a letter Petrarch had written to his brother, a monk, as Petrarch defended his love of secular poetry, worldly interests, and individualism even as he had an intense love for God when there was an unexpected fire drill. As we settled back into the classroom after coming back in out of the rain, a student commented, "What the Shakespeare!?" To which a classmate responded, "There is no more Sigma. Only Shakespeare." 

To those in the know - that is a massive achievement unlocked for a middle school teacher in 2025. I feel like I beat the boss battle and won the game. At least for today. Although it is unlikely I will hear "What the Shakespeare?" in the hallways next week, I will hold onto the memory of this exchange for some time to come.

Student Grievances

 I have an annual assignment in my eighth grade U.S. History class for students to write complaint letters following the structure of the Declaration of Independence. Most complaints are about the homework load, the school uniform policy, or sibling interactions. 

Every year one or two complaints need to be addressed by administration, which is one reason this assignment will stay in the rotation: some kids use it to open up about real problems in their lives.

But my favorite part about this assignment is when kids take the opportunity to really try to mimic the Declaration and make me laugh out loud. Here is an example from this year:

Another gem from this year is a student complaining about his dad's behaviors and his previous attempts to make change:

I always encourage students to discuss their complaints with whomever they address in their letter, and to let me know specifically, when I am infringing in their "rights" as the express in this assignment. It is rare that they actually do, but this year another eighth-grade teacher and I have started a Civic Spirit Club. We are just beginning the research phase in order to make action plans to be changemakers in our community. This affords me another avenue of helping my students understand that their opinions matter and there are ways to make their voices heard!

A Most Splendid Event

A few weeks ago, I had my students research the Louisiana Purchase using resources curated by PBS. They were then asked to write a persuasive essay explaining why the purchase was or was not a "most splendid event" as it was reported by some newspapers at the time. Research skills and persuasive writing are both important skills, and the kids dove into their research and essays with very little complaint given that the end of the school year feels well within reach.

In an era when teachers have to be wary of students opting to have AI generate an essay for them, my students stepped up and used their very own writing skills to complete my assignment. This was indeed, a most splendid event.

Here are two absolute gems of papers that were submitted by this year's eighth graders (presented with the authors' permission):

The Louisiana Purchase: A Comedy of Geopolitical Gains

In the annals of history, few events stand out quite like the most splendid Louisiana Purchase—a colossal real estate deal that would make even the savviest modern-day realtor blush. Picture this: It's 1803, and Napoleon Bonaparte, the French Emperor with a penchant for military conquests, decides he has some prime American real estate lying around. So, he offers it up to Thomas Jefferson, the American President at the time, like a yard sale bargain too good to refuse.

Jefferson, perhaps imagining himself as the next great land baron, jumps at the opportunity, sealing the deal for a mere $15 million. That’s less than the cost of some Hollywood celebrity mansions today! And just like that, the United States doubled in size, all thanks to a stroke of Napoleon’s pen and a hefty dose of manifest destiny.

Of course, not everyone was thrilled about this sudden expansion. Imagine being Spain, minding your own business in the New World, only to wake up and find out your neighbor just went on a shopping spree and bought half the continent. It's like waking up to find out your roommate sold your backyard to the neighbors for a pool.

But hey, who cares about hurt feelings when you've got acres upon acres of untamed wilderness ripe for exploration? Lewis and Clark must have felt like kids in a candy store, except instead of candy, they had uncharted territories and potential encounters with grizzly bears.

And let’s not forget about the diplomatic dance that ensued. France, realizing they were in a bit of a financial pickle (thanks, Napoleon), decided to cash out and focus on European affairs. Meanwhile, the United States, with its newfound land, could finally flex its muscles on the global stage, proving once and for all that they were a force to be reckoned with.

In the end, the Louisiana Purchase was more than just a real estate transaction—it was a comedy of errors, a tale of ambition, and a prime example of how history can sometimes be stranger than fiction. So, the next time you look at a map of the United States and marvel at its vastness, just remember: it all started with a French Emperor and an American dream.

The Louisiana Purchase:

A Whimsical Tale of Land, Liberty, and Laissez-Faire

The Grand Bargain

Once upon a time, in the mystical land of America, there existed a vast, untamed wilderness known as the Louisiana Territory. Thomas Jefferson, that wily wordsmith and third president of the United States, had a brilliant idea: “Why not buy this whole shebang from the French?” And so, with a twinkle in his eye and a quill in his hand, he penned a letter to Napoleon Bonaparte, the French emperor, saying, “Hey, buddy, how about selling us your backyard? We promise not to throw wild parties or leave empty wine bottles lying around.”

The Bargain Bin Bonanza

Napoleon, being a shrewd negotiator and lover of croissants, agreed to the deal. For a mere $15 million (which, in today’s currency, is roughly equivalent to a lifetime supply of artisanal cheese), the United States acquired a landmass so vast that even Lewis and Clark got lost. Imagine the scene: Jefferson doing a little victory dance in his powdered wig, shouting, “We’ve got swamps, we’ve got bayous, we’ve got alligators—what more could a country ask for?”

The Wild West (of the East)

But wait, there’s more! The Louisiana Purchase wasn’t just about snagging prime real estate; it was about expanding the American dream. Settlers flocked to the newly acquired lands like seagulls to a French fry stand. They built log cabins, planted corn, and traded beaver pelts like it was going out of style. Manifest Destiny was in full swing, and folks were itching to explore the uncharted wilderness. “Yeehaw!” they cried, riding their trusty oxen into the sunset.

Consequences Galore

Of course, every fairy tale has its twists. The Louisiana Purchase had consequences aplenty. First, the Native American tribes who called this land home weren’t exactly thrilled about the whole “property transfer” thing. They raised their bows and arrows, shouting, “This is our turf, pal!” But alas, their protests fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the sound of surveyors measuring plots for new Starbucks locations.

And then there was the matter of slavery. The Louisiana Territory was a hodgepodge of cultures, languages, and gumbo recipes. Some folks wanted to keep their slaves, while others said, “Let’s set 'em free and have a jambalaya party!” The debate raged on, like a crawfish boil with too much Tabasco.

A Land of Contradictions

In the end, the Louisiana Purchase was like a beignet—sweet, messy, and impossible to resist. It shaped America’s destiny, fueled westward expansion, and left a trail of powdered sugar in its wake. So next time you’re sipping a café au lait in the French Quarter, raise your cup to Jefferson, Napoleon, and the wild, wonderful tale of the Louisiana Purchase. And remember, dear reader, life is like a bayou: murky, mysterious, and full of surprises.

Coming across these essays in the mix of other very well written, but more traditional essays made my day. I literally laughed out loud as I read them, which was completely unexpected for an assignment that asked students to pick and defend an interpretation of an historical event. I really do love my job.

Constitutional Game Day

 When I was in eighth grade I studied the Constitution. I had to memorize the preamble and was told that anyone who got below a C on the end of unit Constitution Test would be required to retake it until they passed, or not graduate from eighth grade. I suppose I might be misremembering that last bit about not being promoted to high school, but I do know that I was fearful of that test. I just knew I would be retaking the test all spring. Thankfully, I squeaked by with a 70% and only had to take the test once.

Fast forward more than three decades, and I find myself teaching the Constitution to a new generation of young teens. Based on my own experience, I knew I did not want to give my students a high stakes test, but I also knew I wanted them to really understand how our government works. Yes, I know they will get U.S. History again as juniors in high school, but igniting civic engagement now can only help them come to a deeper understanding later, which is an important piece of becoming civically minded adults. (I come by my fierce Patriotism naturally - my grandfather on my mother's side was a career officer in the Army, and my father moved here from Peru at age 18. I have always known that I am blessed to have been born in the United States.)

I have taught U.S. History to fifth graders eleven times, and this is my fourth year teaching it to eighth graders. In past years I have had students write a report. I stand by the need for students to be able to express themselves in writing, but I am no longer a writing teacher and a history teacher. It's no longer a primary part of my job to ensure students can express themselves in writing. One year I let my fifth graders make me whatever they wanted to show what they learned about the Constitution. I vividly remember one student's "Liberty Tree" made out of wrapping paper tubes, construction paper, and lots of labels.

I considered that tactic again this year. My seventh graders make "knowledge products" to showcase their learning about the European Renaissance, so they are familiar with less structure in a final project. But this year I was running up against spring break. I wanted something that would be fun for them, easy for me to assess, and doable by everyone before the break started. And then it hit me:

So today was play-testing day. We had games based on CandyLand, Chutes and Ladders, Sorry, Solitaire, Uno, Memory, Risk, and D&D as well as several original games. There was even one text-based computer game. (Zork, anyone?) Every student was engaged playing games created by their classmates. It was LOUD. There was so much laughter and students complimenting each other in the ruckus. They were genuinely invested in the games, getting upset when they lost, cheering when they won, and asking for rematches. 

This is my new favorite form of summative assessment. Tomorrow is a half day, and my students will spend it in the church presenting the Stations of the Cross to the school community. Testing each other's educational games was a perfect way to spend our last class period together before heading into a well-deserved Easter Break.

Knack for Injury... I mean Teaching

 So, today I drummed on desks to get my students' attention. I drum hard when I do this, so as to be heard above the noise I'm trying to quiet. Somehow, today this resulted in a thumb injury. I even got an ice pack from the office. I'm really not sure how that happened, as the initial pain, which was instant, was on the side of my thumb, not anywhere near where my hands were making contact with the desk. Also, I've done this hundreds of times this school year... what made this time result in a full finger ache that had me ordering a thumb brace from Amazon to be delivered to school tomorrow?

Also today, my "good" knee started hurting. I fell on ice the first Friday of December 2022 and have been nursing a knee injury ever since. It is getting better, but by wearing a knee brace every day at school and using a cane or walking stick whenever I'm on stairs. However, today, the back of my other knee began hurting. By the time I got home, my "good" knee was wracked with stabbing pain in both the front and back with every step. I feel old. I may teach from a rolling chair tomorrow.

When I told my husband he said, "You have a knack for getting injured." Yes, I know.

But in other news, I had three interactions this week that were incredibly affirming. The first one started out with a student in my elective creative writing class creating a brand-new character and story outline only to turn in a final story that was a retelling of a recent popular movie. The student did a great job with the retelling, but I sent it back for resubmission since the assignment was to write a story based on the new character and story outline. Based on several recent factors in this student's life, I was asked via email over the weekend if the new story needed to be written or if assessment could be based on the character creation and outline. I agreed, saying "I don't want my creative writing class to be the reason xxxx learns to dislike writing." 

But the parent responded that a check on the student's progress found them chuckling over the new story and thoroughly enjoying completing the assignment. Teaching win!

I have been tutoring a fifth-grade student in writing for just over a month now. Today we worked for longer than our previous sessions, as a paper on one of the 13 colonies is due on Monday. Not only did this so-called reluctant writer work for a solid hour writing (with voice typing) and researching, the (long) checklist I wrote of things to accomplish in class or over the weekend before the paper is due was met with veiled enthusiasm. One of the best kind of teaching wins!

I also met this student's parent for the first time today, as we returned to the extended day program later than has been typical. The parent reported that this student came home from school one day recently excited that he had written MORE than was expected in class that day. I credit my "formula" for writing a proper paragraph that I perfected over the 11 years I taught fifth grade. Teaching win!

Finally, I literally had a parent stop me in the hallway this afternoon to thank me for watching out for her child. This is literally the best teaching win I could ask for.

I'm still in pain from my myriad of dumb injuries... but I can truly say it has been a phenomenal week. And it's only Tuesday. Does that mean I can take the rest of the week off to nurse my injuries?

Mid-Year Musings

 So this calendar year has been a nutty mix of health issues (mine, my parents, and my in-laws) and schedule full of disruptions. One of the disruptions was an amazingly fun assembly with our local Reptile Man. Eighth graders were initially upset that they were missing P.E. for the assembly, but while they were interacting with the animals, I heard, "This is awesome!" "I love this!" and other such exclamations.

Even though we've made it to the halfway point of the school year, I'm making in-roads into better relationship with my students. This year's group is a tough crowd, with an underdeveloped sense of respect and keen minds who like to debate and argue everything from school policies to assignment instructions. Little and not so little wearing behaviors happen throughout every day: 

• I put out a new set of pencils near the sharpener, and within one class period several are broken all over the floor.
• Students helped themselves to my prize candy stash often enough I stopped buying it this year.
• Instruction is marked by students talking over teachers in every class.
• Many feel like they do not need to follow basic classroom etiquette, like sitting in assigned seats or working with their assigned groups.
• They call each other names and make snide comments that they claim are jokes.
• Several students have no ability to code-switch and stop swearing or saying inappropriate things in front of teachers (calling each other "on the spectrum" or using the n-word for example).

But during the past six weeks, my eighth graders have been overheard saying things like, "Mrs. Conrow only gets mad at us when our class is being annoying." And, "You can tell Mrs. Conrow really cares about us."

Since January we have been working through our U.S. history unit titled "Fighting for Independence," where they learn about Thomas Paine, Common Sense, and the Declaration of Independence. 

As they study the Declaration, I have them write their own complaint letters, modeled after the Declaration. It's one of my favorite assignments. Most of the letters focus on school policies like our cell phone and uniform policies or complain about homework. There's a healthy sprinkling of sibling and family dynamics too. For example, one student this year wants to be allowed to eat after 8:30pm. This year, this validating gem was part of a handful of letters complaining about peers:

Also, if real problems in the school community exist, they often come to light so the school can begin addressing them. This year, we learned to watch a specific lunch table:

There is a reason I love this job. But I also know it's incredibly challenging. That's not going to change, so evidence that I'm making a difference is always welcome.

Middle School in December

 In my school setting December dawns with the first change in grading periods. On a trimester system in a school that begins after Labor Day, the first Friday in December is the last day of the first term, making the first full week in December report card week. It also means the first two weeks of the new term are the last two weeks before a two-week break. That plus the schedule interruptions due to the time of year means content tied to a specific unit takes a back seat in December.

This year's first report card cycle was brutal. I'm 24 years into my teaching career, and every year before this, as I got into writing comments, I felt less and less overwhelmed by the process. This year was the opposite. Our new learning management system has a bit of information overload built in. I had seven fields per student per class to fill in, resulting in 838 comments to write, proof-read, and edit. The reports end up being about 30 pages long, so there's a solid chance families skimmed rather than actually read all of words I spent over ten hours composing.

On top of the report cards, high school application teacher evaluation forms were due to the front office on the same day report cards were locked. The middle school team entered the new grading term exhausted and cranky.

Planning for lessons needed to be simple in the midst of all of the above. So, I had my eighth graders chose a Revolutionary War figure (as we were between our "The Road to the Revolution" and "Fighting for Independence" units) and I tasked them with deciding whether Santa would place their chosen person on the "naughty" list or the "nice" list and to back up their claim with evidence researched from trustworthy sources. 

Then, for fun, I had them tell me what unique gift Santa might bring their historical figure. My favorite was the student who wanted to bring Benedict Arnold a time machine so he could go back and change his actions, since he expressed regret for his actions on his death bed.

After presenting their findings, students were tasked with using their research to create a meme to add to our United States history meme wall. There were many gems among them. Here are few.

The seventh graders were in transition between a unit I call "Civilizations Around the World" where we touch on empires in the Americas, Asia, and Africa and a look at the European Rennaissance. Since there was less continuity, I had them each do preliminary research on the Christmas/Advent traditions and customs of four different countries (not only can I get away with that at a Catholic school, it's encouraged) and choose one. They found a holiday recipe they thought sounded tasty and illustrated a scene showcasing at least three different holiday traditions from their chosen countries. Those who were able brought in their chosen dish to share with the class.

It was a low-key way for me to get in a Christmas celebration for them, and many of them tried new foods. Two unexpected hits were a Filipino shrimp wrap and a mash up of foods brought in from Greece and France turned into a sandwich. The kids tried new foods and conversed with their friends during our last class before the break.

In addition to all of the above, my room parents put together a Jeopardy Christmas trivia game for my students, 

we built gingerbread houses in our advisories, 

and ended the last half day before break with our annual school wide activities. The day begins with staff caroling to the students and families at drop off as they drank hot chocolate and munched on cookies. From there, we all head to the auditorium where we have our final Advent prayer service for the year before heading to our classrooms for attendance. I handed out my gift for my class, crocheted jellyfish with a poem about jellyfish and a couple of Hershey's kisses. The jellyfish became instant fidget toys (twirled around), sensory toys, (fingers shoved through the stiches), water bottle decorations, and even hats.

 

Then we separated into our school families, each with a couple of kids per grade level for one last practice before the big caroling competition. The day ends, with a grand indoor snowball fight by grade band. The middle schoolers watch and cheer on all the younger kids before getting their turn to pelt each other for fifteen minutes. 

I commented to my coworkers during the snowball fights that our students, especially those who grew up at our school and never attended anywhere else, have no idea how lucky they are. What other school comes together as one community for the entire day before Christmas break to celebrate, compete, show school spirit, and have so much fun?