Kule.

Found a note in my trash on the way out the door today. Feeling the desire for a bit of early teen-aged gossip (most notes are between girls demanding advice on who they should start to like), I glanced over it. In said note, one girl complained to another that her class was boring. Student in my class said that she should add my class instead. Other student response? "I wish! Miss _______ is sooooo Kule, with a K!!"

I'm not really sure what that means, exactly, but I'm assuming it is some kind of ultra powered cool. And not that I want my entire reputation as a teacher to be based solely on whether or not my class is pure entertainment, this gave me quite the ego boost as it means I've finally accomplished something I always wanted for some strange reason when I was an early teen: to be called cool by other early teens. Only took me a decade to get there, but still. . .

Score.

What you say. . . what you mean. . .

It's a final round of parent teacher conferences tonight. I've been telling my students all week that if they come with their parents I will give them a treat, and that I promise I won't say anything mean about them in public.

Of course, what they don't know is that I am also a master of euphemism. Here are some of my favorite things to say, and hear at conferences along with their "translations":

1. Your child is very social! They have so many friends.
(Your child never shuts up. No, seriously.)

2. Everyone in class really seems to enjoy your student.
(Everyone in class knows who your student is because they are so "social".)

3. Your student really adds something to our class. When he/she is not there, we notice a difference.
(I know that God loves me extra on the days when your kid doesn't come.)

4. Your child is very unique.
(Your kid is "special" - like, "don't eat the paste or put hand sanetizer into the pencil sharpener" special.)

5. Your student is very active.
(By the time they leave class, their desk is about three feet away from where it should be.)

6. Your child has a special kind of . . . extra sense about them. . .
(Buy your kid some deoderant please?)

I HATE ENGLISH!!

I don't normally make a big fuss when I see notes being passed in class. So long as they are passed between people sitting near each other and it doesn't stop them from participating, it's not a big deal. I reserve the right to take whatever I see, and as long as the passing isn't distracting to other students, then it's not a problem.

Today, one of these notes was left behind on the desk of a female student in one of my classes. Naturally, I picked it up. It read something like this:

"Hey ___________! I just wanted to write you a note. K. Bye!"

"Thanx - soooo bored. I hate English!"

"I know! I HATE IT!!!"

And so on.

Now, I'm not personally offended by this. Anyone who has had the pleasure of interacting with twelve year olds knows that their affections change in a minute and their sense of hyperbole is amazing, even if they don't know what the word itself means. So I'm not really personally offended by the letter. It wasn't the most exciting class. They're entitled to be bored. Plus, unless I'm a really awful judge of character, I know that at least one of these two note-writing fiends almost always likes class. The other one is a little more difficult to read, being of the more quiet variety, but I'm not inclined to think that 'the other one' is always hating class either. At least not all caps and several exclamation marks worth of hate.

But I can't just let it go. The opportunity is too choice.

So tomorrow, these two students will receive a little note of their own from me that will read something along the lines of:

Dear _____________,

If you choose to write mean notes in class, please be kind enough to recycle them before you leave. I don't like cleaning up after you.

Love,

Boring English Teacher

Ahh. . . the passive aggressive punishment. . .